I Work for Justice on TEMPORARY Hiatus
by Holli-chan
Summary: Matt really just wanted a co-worker. Instead, he got what's turning out to be a psycho stalker with a liking towards his ass. Great. MxM, AU, co-author between me Holli-chan and Atreyl! WARNING: Not a very romantic romance.-HIATUS: sorry guys.personal.
1. Overuse of the Word Ass

**A/N: Alright, kiddies, this is the co-author I had been mentioning for a while, which is being hosted by me and co-authored by the lovely Atreyl! If you haven't checked out her stuff, you really should. I'll be doing Mello's POV, and her Matt's POV. Our updating might be a little slow, but bear with us, we're busy writers, darlings. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and that I can keep up with Atreyl's writing skillz .a.**

**Love you all ~Holli**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note or the characters in it, we only own the AU plot. Also, we don't own Godiva, Justice, Starbucks, or horrible Disney channel music (thank god). **

**Mello's POV**

"Well fuck this! I'm gone, you ass-hat! I don't want to work here anyway!"

The door slammed rather loudly behind me as I took off down the sidewalk, the customer-alert bell ringing obnoxiously in my ear. I made a point of paying no attention to the staring customers eyeing me from inside the windows of the coffee shop, nor the Hispanic woman I had just shoved rather roughly past on my way towards my apartment building.

You can't blame me for being bitchy. I had every right to be in a bad mood, you see. I had a very, very good reason.

A prostitute stole my job today.

I'm guessing that not many people out there can say that, but actually, it's true. A prostitute seriously stole my job. Not even a _former _prostitute - I know for a fact that woman is still selling herself for money, even if she denies it. I mean really, who goes home with a different creepy old man every night? I'll tell you - _only prostitutes_.

Really I guess it's my own fault. If I hadn't called her out on it, I suppose I wouldn't have gotten in a full out fight with her. Originally, being the good guy that I am (ha-ha, that was a joke) I had been trying to help, putting my hand on her shoulder and telling her, quote, "she really shouldn't keep being a whore." Apparently she took it the wrong way, though (I suppose, in retrospect, that hadn't been a very good way to word it…) and ended up slugging me in the nose. Let me tell you, prostitutes sure aren't wimps - she put up quite the fight, and damn me if I admit it, it hurt like hell. Not nearly as much as it hurt her when I slugged her in the jaw, probably, but still. We ended up tangled in a squirming, hair-pulling, punching, clawing mass in isle 4 before some little girl turned the corner and started shrieking, causing that damn manager to find us. I had to smirk at the thought of it, even if it pissed me off… and got me fired.

Apparently the manager decided I was the only one at fault in the situation (even though the bitch started it, as I told him) and was fired. Well, more specifically, I quit, but he would have fired me anyway. She should have been fired too, but she batted her eyelashes and fake-cried, so she got out of it. He totally went along with it too. "Sexist bastard," I muttered aloud a bit too loudly as I stalked down the street, causing a random dark-haired man to my left to flinch and give me wide, horrified eyes. I only shot him a glare and kept walking until I reached my apartment, where I promptly kicked the door open (it doesn't have a lock, it's seriously that shitty) and flopped face-first down on my bed, which proceeded to creak angrily in protest. Ignoring it's complaints I screamed into my pillow, noting all the same that I was acting like a teenage girl, and pounded my fists into the wildly uncomfortable mattress.

I finally calmed down after a few minutes of this, left as simply a cold lump of a self sitting on my bed, staring blankly at the white sheets. I didn't have any blankets, since I got too hot and sweaty every night even without blankets (nightmares, I guess. I can never remember them). It occurred to me, in the back of my mind, that this was very bad.

See, I'm a student. I go to a very good, very high-class university, quite proudly in fact, seeing as I'm the number… two… student there (might as well be number one, seeing as Near is a shit-head who no one even cares about except maybe Gevanni, that weird - but cute - kid who always partners with him in group stuff) but because this is a pretty full-time thing, I don't really have time to make a lot of money, and…

Well, to put it frankly, I'm fucking broke. Meaning I needed a new job.

Just as I was preparing myself to flop on the bed and procrastinate for a few hours, though, my cell phone rang, the tune to What's Up People (shut up, I fucking love that song) blaring from it's shitty phone-speakers. Snatching the device rather clumsily out of my pants (yes, my pants - leather has no pockets, and hey, it prevents theft!) I quickly flipped it open and pressed it to my ear.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked automatically, as this is actually my generic phone-answering phrase.

There was a brief pause before the monotonous voice answered my question. "You have been fired again," the person said. It wasn't a question. I sighed heavily, flopping backwards against the rather flat pillow of my bed, eyebrow twitching in irritation when it offered nearly no comfort.

"It wasn't my fault this time, it was that whore that works with me, bitch punched me in the nose," I told him dryly, letting out a groan. "How'd you find out this time?"

"I am L," L explained bluntly, as if this explained everything. It kind of did, if you knew him - he was a pretty smart guy, and even after knowing him for years and years after his grandfather Mr. Wammy helped me out of my teenage rut (don't ask) I've long since given up even trying to figure him out. "And you, Mello, get fired quite a lot," he added, the barest hint of humor tainting his voice. It was the kind of emotion that he only showed to people he knew well and cared for - not that anyone who didn't know him well would even catch that it was there.

I rolled my eyes, despite knowing he couldn't see me. "Whatever, it's not my fault I attract trouble," I replied angrily, kicking my boot off and wincing slightly when they hit the wall in front of me, probably leaving a dent. Oh well, the walls were dented and stained when I first rented the place, so I wasn't worried about the owner noticing.

On the other line, L scoffed. "If you were quieter you would cause less, though," he reminded me in that I-am-smarter-than-you voice that he has. He had a right to have it - I was a genius, if I do say so myself, but he was a prodigy well beyond his time. He was still socially retarded, though.

"What, and be a social reject like you? No thanks," I half-teased, letting out a long, irritated sigh as I looked up at the ceiling, which was still stained from where there had been yet another leakage a few nights before. I almost started inwardly complaining about how much my apartment sucked, but then it occurred to me that the way things were going lately I probably couldn't even afford _this _for too much longer.

Well, shit.

"Why do you not just come and work for me?" L inquired, changing the subject without any apparent second thought. "I can give you good pay, and I wouldn't fire you as long as you didn't break any major laws…"

I frowned deeply, letting out a bitter laugh. "Work for _you? _At prissy tween-bitch paradise? Uh, no, thanks though," I retorted, wrinkling my nose at the thought.

I could practically _feel _L glaring at me through the phone, the hate-vibes hitting me full-force in the ear despite his monotonous-as-ever voice. "Mello," he began in a reprimanding-father kind of voice. "I am the manager of the store, and I would know for a fact that it is a respectable establishment, and is not to be made fun of. You shouldn't-"

"Lawli, you're the manager if _Justice,_" I reminded him blandly, letting out a snicker. "A _tween girl _store. There's really nothing respectable about that." It was pretty much true. L only started working for the store because of it's name - Justice - since he had always had a fascination with the topic of just and what not, but it ended u going much further than just a little side-job to pass the time, him getting the manager job and all. He was quite dedicated to it.

"There's nothing wrong with Justice," L muttered lamely.

"It's basically the most un-manly thing ever, L," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

I saw his retort coming before I heard it, and mentally face palmed myself. "_You're _the most un-manly thing ever, so the job would fit you," he replied bluntly. I moved the phone from my ear for a moment to scowl at it, glancing instinctively at the mirror afterwards. I wasn't _that _un-manly. I mean, I had longer hair and a semi-feminine figure, but you could still tell I was a _dude. _Sheesh.

"Besides…" L continued after a few moments, seeming to be thoughtful if only for effect, since I knew he had already figured what he was saying in his mind even though he had paused. "Mello does not get hired by many easily."

I glare at the broken lamp beside my bed, wishing death upon it. "You mean because I'm _gay?_" I growled, my voice becoming hushed instinctively. The idea was infuriating; I mean, I knew I was gay. I was very, very gay. But the idea that prejudice would go so far as to not hire an intelligent man because of his sexuality…

"I was referring to your personality, Mello," L replied kindly. "You're kind of an asshole."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, not all that upset by the accusation.

"Any time. Now, I'll see you at the mall at six tomorrow - you have the job," L suddenly stated, very quickly and precisely, causing me to gasp in irritation. But L suddenly hung up before I could make a retort, apparently deeming the conversation over without another thought. I sighed, rubbing my temple with one hand in effort to banish my headache and violently chucking the handheld at the wall with the other, watching with dim interest as the already-broken _End Call _button finally just popped off. Figures.

"Does nobody say goodbye anymore?" I asked nobody in an annoyed tone, sitting up and resting my face in my palms.

Working at Justice was _not _something I wanted to do. I've never denied the fact that I'm a very egotistical person. Despite my supposed feministic traits, working at a pre-teen girl store was _not _something that was high on my list of "cool things". And while I don't generally care about what others think of me (unless of course they think they're better than me, in which I will happily prove them wrong and/or shove something sharp up their asses) it's still a pretty humiliating idea to me, for several reasons.

First of all, I hate children. _Hate them. _I mean, I was a child once, so I _know _how bad they are. Preppy little girls are the worst, the kind that always sneer at people and giggle about nothing, the kind that point and smirk and flip their hair like they're all that. And the entire time watching these girls I just want to take them by the shoulders, shake them harshly, and scream "YOU ARE ELLEVEN YEARS OLD, NO ONE CARES WHAT YOU THINK!" but of course I can't, because there's always that ever-hovering parent-squad watching from a small distance away. I also hate parents, but that's a different story entirely.

Second, Justice is freakin' girly. I get mistaken for a girl on a regular basis - working at a _girl's clothing store _will only make the 'fag' comments worse, as well as the 'transvestite?' questions. I am not a transvestite, if you were wondering, and anyone who dares to ask that usually ends up with a broken jaw. I don't even fucking _act _girly, for Christ sakes…

Third, that place smells like every cheap, girly perfume product available on the market, and then some. Normally this wouldn't be a deal breaker, but walking around town smelling like that would be rather humiliating.

And fourth, and more-or-so the most important of the options, L was a shitty boss. I know this because I once worked with him on a school project, at the University we once both went to (he graduated), and he was bossy. Very, very bossy. He didn't even know that he was, I think - he just told you what to do and expected you do it, and if you didn't, he acted very surprised, as if what he told you was completely reasonable even though it probably wasn't. He didn't accept lateness, either - if you were a minute late for whatever meeting you had, he would act very irritated for a while (at least, as irritated as you can tell with him). I knew it would only get worse if it as for Justice, which for one reason or another he was obscenely dedicated to.

But then again… I needed a job. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, getting another job this fast and this easy again wasn't likely. I didn't really have enough money to stay in this apartment for too much longer without it, what with University fees and the fact that I never had any money in the first place. And I _so _didn't want to sleep on the streets, for any amount of time, ever again. I'd experienced that, and I assure you, it's not fun.

So, I had two options here. Risk homelessness and don't take the job, or take the job and work at fucking Justice. Christ… did I even have a choice?

I cursed under my breath when I realized that, really, I didn't.

* * *

I headed to the mall after a few hours of moping, decked in leather as usual as I strolled my way over (it was in walking distance from my apartment, which you'd think would be nice until you found yourself awake all night due to the traffic outside your window every night). From what L said I wasn't going to be working until tomorrow, if I even took the damn job, but I figured I'd head over now to get a general lay of the land and what not. Perhaps note some escape routes for if (when) I needed to escape the horrors of Justice.

On my way through the winding mall, which I didn't frequent in the least, I made a point of charting out the nearest Starbucks (I need my chocolate mochas, dammit, _need them_), book store (I like books; plus, it's quiet in there, and mostly free of preppy tween girls, who I've found generally do not read) and Godiva chocolate store (no explanation necessary for this piece of awesomeness). I'm glad to report I managed to find all three. It was crowded at the mall today, though, much to my annoyance, and I found myself having to shove through gaggles of people that are annoyingly just standing around in the walkway, as if it's some sort of rest area. I'll tell you - it isn't. You don't just _stand_ in the mall walkway - thus, _walk_way. Lazy fuckers…

Besides that annoying factor, though, I managed to slip through the mall without being molested, punched, kicked in the shins, screeched at, or flirted with the entire way to the area where Justice was located, which believe it or not is kind of a rare occurrence. I always tend to cause trouble and attract attention, which is probably my fault what with the hair and the leather and temperamental attitude and what not. But still.

Blessing aside, just looking at the store kind of made me want to barf. Inside the doors, even at a glance, I could tell very well that there was absolutely nothing leather or even completely black located in that store, packed in with everything from sparkly headbands, short skirts, shirts with glitter-print, nail polish, fuzzy-cover diaries, and pounding crap Disney-pop music emanating from the doorway. Even the freaking sign on the top of the store was pink and loopy, even going to the point of the "i" being dotted with a heart. A _heart. _And not just a heart. A heart with _shiny lines. _Yes, you heard me correctly - _shiny lines._

I frowned deeply as a cluster of girls, both looking about ten to twelve, rushed past me, wasting no manners on going around me and instead shoving me rudely out of the way. Everything in me wanted to just pound their heads into the cement and watch their heads crack open like watermelo-

I could not work here. There was no way.

Still, I found myself wandering up to the window of the store, ignoring the weird looks I was getting as I peered in the window. Nearly everything in the room looked completely unappealing.

Note: _nearly._

But for a second as I glanced over I found my eyes wandering to a rack of jackets with too many buttons to find an employee, who happened to at that point of time struggling to fasten one of them back onto it's pink hanger. I couldn't see his face, but I can see his back, and see the crazy red head of hair and the weird striped shirt, right along with a weird furry jacket and skinny jeans. I find myself staring at him - not his ridiculous outfit, but _him. _

He had a nice ass.

No, no - I shake my head in effort to clear my thoughts as I look at him. That wasn't the point in this situation. It was that, lo and behold, there was actually another guy there. Not only that but an _attractive _guy. Sure, he looked like a bit of a nerd even from behind, but…

Damn, he had a nice ass. Oh, shit, there I go again…

"Um, sir?" someone behind me inquired. I turned around to see a petite black woman staring at me with narrowed eyes, scowling at me as if I had done her some great harm.

I scowled right back. "What do you want?" I snapped, irritated by her sudden uninvited appearance in my life which was distracting me from staring at the random redhead with the nice ass inside the window. Her frown immediately deepened, causing the wrinkles around her eyes to become more noticeable. Before she can speak again, I shrug her off, going back to looking in the window. To my great annoyance, Nice-Ass (which is what I'm officially calling him until I figure out the boys goddamn name) is no where to be found, seemingly vanished from his place and replaced by a trio of giggling beach-babe type girls. Dammit.

The woman storms off in a huff of annoyance behind me at being ignored, but I only continue to do so, trying my best to peer around the store without actually entering the facility. But alas, Nice-Ass is gone. Again I say, dammit.

But despite this, I have a new found hope, a tiny spark in the back of my mind. This job could have pluses. This job had redheads with nice asses. I hadn't even seen the boy's face, but I knew just by spotting him that he was something unique if anything, what with the bright red hair and odd (but not altogether unattractive) outfit. He, whoever he was, could be my outlet, could become some source of… I tried to find the right word as I wandered back away from the window, tapping my finger to my lips. Then I smiled. Ah, yes - _entertainment. _

As this thought slides through my mind my phone suddenly vibrates, sending a buzz from my back pocket. I set off in a fast-walk away from the store as I pick it up, pressing the cold metal device to my ear. "What is it, jackass?"

A tiny 'hah' of a snicker comes from the other line, and I immediately recognize the voice. "Good to see you haven't lost your personality," L said cheerlessly, though I could still hear the taint of humor there. It vanishes immediately after those words, though, and he adds monotonously, "I called to remind you that your shift starts at seven."

"Seven, huh?" I inquire aimlessly, glancing back at the store and letting loose a tiny involuntary shudder. So much pink… so early in the morning… but I needed money. Plus… Nice-Ass popped into my head again, the back of his head more specifically, not his nether regions. So I sigh and shake my head, letting a tiny smirk fall onto my lips.

"I'll be there."

**A/N: Much of this chapter was just an excuse to make Mello say "ass hat", really. Well, and to set the mood, but whatever, details details… anyway, how do you like my first chapter? Mello's a bit of a bitch in this one, ain't he? Not fond of little girls either… though he took quite the liking to Matty's ass, hmm…? Anyway the next chapter will be the splendid Atryel (as soon as she gets her ass back from Atlantic City, that is -lol-) so look forward to that! : ) Oh, and I'd like to point out that I mean nothing against people who shop at Justice, I used to as well before I grew out of the clothes, but Mello, as I said before, is a bitch in this and is not terribly fond of young girls (or girls in general, for that matter, hence his gayness). And, for future reference, anything else Mello hates on or discriminates against or whatever has nothing to do with my own opinion (probably) so please don't get offended. You can take your complaints to Mello's office, but I doubt he'll answer XD**

**Love y'all, R&R if you find the time! ~Holli (with Atryel)**


	2. What a WONDERFUL Life

A/N: So, seeing as Holli had basically explained our co-author in the previous chapter, I have nothing to say. Except the disclaimer and a little bit more at the end. Disclaimer time, children!

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note(sadly). Or Matt. Or Mello. Or Justice. Or GameStop. In fact, I think it's safe to say we own nothing but the plot. :D**

**Matt's POV**

* * *

"Message...Message...Message...Message!...Message!...MESSAGE!..._MESSAGE!_"

My eyes snapped open and my right hand instinctively shot out to turn off my cell phone, practically karate-chopping it. For one second, I watched as my phone flipped over and jump over the edge of the bedside table. Then I hissed and drew my hand to my chest, my pinky finger in pain. My phone was still on the floor, the screen lit up and declaring that I had a new text message.

With a groan, I sat up. You know, waking up via guy screaming 'MESSAGE!' isn't really the best way to start a morning.

I swung my legs over to the edge of the bed, finding the floor and picking up my phone with my toes. I grabbed it, lazily flipping over the cover and opening the text. It was from L, my manager. The text read, 'Do not be late again today, Matt-kun.' Muttering to myself about having to wake up too early and sparkly headbands(don't judge!), I tossed my phone on my bed and shuffled out of the room. I stumbled into my kitchen, which was basically a refrigerator, a dingy window that I keep close at all times because there's a goddamn spider that won't leave on the other side, three counters, and a cupboard. Also, there was a table in the middle and a chair. You know, that I use to sit on. And eat on. And-

Right. Moving on. I got out some bread and spread peanut butter on it hastily, glancing at the time on the microwave. Green digits read 5:53 AM.

"Ah, shit!" I cursed loudly, stuffing half of my sandwich into my mouth. My shift started at six, and not to mention that I lived fifteen minutes away from the mall. Unless I speeded...

After quickly devouring my peanut butter sandwich and licking my fingers clean (I was _not _going to waste any peanut butter, no matter how much of a hurry I was in), I ran into my room and started pulling on some jeans. As I zipped them up, I grabbed my shirt hanging from my computer chair and slipped it on hastily. Checking that I had my keys and my goggles, I practically sprinted down the stairs and out of my apartment complex.

My car was parked neatly beside the curb (I absolutely _refuse _to park my baby in my apartment building's crummy parking lot), and I took a moment to admire it. Then I realized I probably had five minutes to get to work, otherwise L would give me another shift on Saturday.

Several failed attempts at opening my car door later-I kept pressing the unlock button at the same time I pulled on the door-handle- I was on my way to Justice.

Okay, before you go ahead and laugh, I would just like to say here that I hadn't intended on working at Justice at first. I'd originally applied for GameStop, but by some weird freak my application got mixed up, and the following Monday later, I found out that I apparently was working at a girl's clothing store.

I freaked out when I realized, of course, like any other guy should do. I mean, _Justice_? With pink wallpaper and bright, pink neon lights, and tween girls constantly trying to hook up with you? (And occasionally tween _guys_...I shudder.) With said tween girls also constantly trying to hug your vest? It sounded like a nightmare. At least until I actually started working there.

Don't judge me, but I...I kind of like working at Justice. Sometimes mothers would come in with their daughters and it reminds me of my own mom and my own little sister. And when the tween girls weren't as rabid, it was somewhat fun arguing with them which nail polish best complimented their skin tone, then watching them get frustrated with me and stomp out of the store. And it was _very _entertaining listening to the older girls, the teenagers.

I heard about everything from crushes to break-ups to what Tiffany wore at school yesterday. All in all, it was fun. Until L gets the complaint about a customer who'd never return to the store again because some redhead with goggles told her that her 'skin tone was as ugly as a frog's wart.' I'm going to take this opportunity to say that I did _not _tell her that. She totally exaggerated. All I said was that her skin tone didn't match with this one green shirt because her skin was brown. Apparently, frog's warts are brown-colored. How's that, kiddies? You learn something new everyday...

Anyway, back to the present. I found a parking space when I finally got to the mall in the record time of nine minutes. Unfortunately, it was a good distance away from the mall's entrance, so I groaned to myself when I realized that I would have to run if I didn't want to be too late.

As I was just getting out of my car, my neck started itching. Annoyed, I looked down and realized my shirt was backwards. The tag was sticking out noticeably, and would probably itch like hell if I didn't reverse my shirt.

"Argh, my god, why me?" I complained loudly, attracting stares from other people. I didn't care. _They _would feel like yanking their hair out, too, if their morning was like mine. And the next, and the next, and basically every morning until I find a new job.

I was probably ten minutes late already. Complaining to myself a few more times, I decided to start running for the entrance while stripping my shirt and vest. A woman screamed loudly when I streaked past, shirtless and trying to put on my shirt the right way while holding on to my vest. By the time I reached the double doors, my shirt was finally on frontwards, my vest was on, and I was out of breath. _Maybe I really should work out more_, I thought, then rolled my eyes. As if.

I made my way to Justice, strolling along as if I hadn't just run the whole way from my car to the entrance while changing. I picked out my working place immediately, seeing the bright pink lights and the numerous amount of girls bustling around, visible through the clear windows.

Praying that none of them would notice me and try to molest my vest, I politely excused myself through a small group blocking the way in. I was able to make it halfway to the register when a little girl attacked me. She looked no older than eight years old and her eyes were big and brown.

"Your vest is so fluffy!" she squealed, burying her face in it.

Meh. And I thought today would be the day my personal bubble would not be violated. Oh, well, I did like the attention.

"Can I have it, mister?" The little girl was speaking again, looking up at me pleadingly.

I chuckled. "Sorry, kiddo. I wouldn't be Matt without this." I've always wondered why my confidence-level is higher when I'm around children. Maybe it's because you can tell them that toasters are fried chicken in disguise and they'd believe it.

Then her mother came rushing over, pulling the girl back to her protectively. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the woman gushed. "Abby does this often, and I apologize if she made you uncomfortable-"

"It's okay, ma'am," I said, nodding and smiling. The woman smiled back and walked away, telling her daughter in whispers how rude it was to walk up to strangers and hug them. I watched after them. See? Working at Justice wasn't so bad. Well, except-

"Matt!" someone yelled across the room. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

I winced, trying to duck. As if _that _would hide me. My hair stood out like a dead, bloody canary laying in a ground of white snow. And, yes, I know that analogy was crude and it sucked, but whatever.

"Mattie-kun!" Misa squealed, running after me.

I sighed, knowing she'd probably catch me anyway. I managed a little smile. "Hey, Misa."

Misa waved. "You're late again! But don't worry, I won't tell L!" She nodded to herself, blond pigtails bouncing.

"Erm...thanks?" I was-and still am- socially retarded, mind you. I didn't like talking to others, unless they talked to me first. And usually if they wanted to talk, I'd try to inch my way out of the conversation. Really, what would I have to talk about? 'Hi, I'm Matt. I'm an eighteen-year-old that lives by himself in a crappy apartment and likes to work at Justice. What about you?'

"No problem!" Misa then proceeded to hug me and cut my blood circulation from my waist and upwards. I choked a little as she stepped back. "Oh, I've got to go! A customer needs help! See you later, Mattie!"

Did you notice that there's an exclamation point after every sentence she says? Yeah, and it's not an exaggeration, either. Everything that comes out of her mouth sounds freakishly loud unless she was super depressed about something, which didn't happen a lot. The last time she went into a state like that was two months ago when her pet goldfish, Kitty, died. (And I'm not even kidding about the name.)

"Bye, Misa." I nodded, watching her skip away to a teenager that was having trouble picking between two identical shirts.

"You should definitely pick this one!" Misa enthused, pointing to the one on the left. The teen girl she was talking to nodded.

"You're absolutely right, Misa," she said solemnly. "Thank you so much for helping me decide. It was so hard!"

Everyone knew Misa. She was the Fashion Expert, as all of our _lovely _customers had titled her. Whenever someone needed help with something concerning looks, Misa was the one they turned to.

"Hey, Matt, I need you over here," one of my co-workers called.

I flashed a thumbs-up to a woman, whose name I could never remember. I made my way behind the counters and vacated an empty register. Almost as soon as I took my place, about four or five girls got in line, arms full of clothes that they were about to buy. I began to ring up her items, absently listening to Miley Cyrus's singing blaring from the speakers.

_" 'cause it's the be-est of both worlds!"_

_Kill me now_, I pleaded silently._ Kill me now and make it quick._

Grudgingly, I worked at cash register duty and endured the terrible Disney music for the next couple of hours. Sometimes a girl would ask for my opinion on some of the stuff she bought or something, but other than that it was boring. Then, two hours before my shift ended(which, by the way, ends at 3), a man came up to the counter. He was dressed in a checkered blue shirt and ripped jeans, with his overgrown black hair partially hiding his eyes.

"Hey there," he said, leaning his elbow on the counter. He did this flippy-thingy with his head, successfully clearing his bangs to the side of his face without using his hands.

I wanted to say, "That was retarded," but that's not very nice, and L's always lecturing me about not driving the customers away, so I obeyed orders like I good little puppy and didn't say the insult. "Can I have the stuff you're buying so I can ring them up?" I asked nicely instead.

He frowned for a moment, but set down three bottles of nail polish. As I scanned them, he told me, "They're for my girlfriend. You know, though, I could probably break up with her..."

"Misa!" I shouted a little too quickly. "Take over cash register duty for me, please!" The guy was looking at me like I was a piece of meat and it was scary. So I stuffed his various nail polishes into a small bag, pushing it at him. "Have a good day!" I said with fake cheer.

He leaned closer. "Hey, now, don't be so-"

Misa interrupted him. "Hi, I'm Misa, what's your name?" she asked happily. "I'd be glad to get any items you have left, sir!"

I decided that then would be the best time to make my exit. I tried to look inconspicuous as I walked out from behind the counters, going over to the racks by the store's windows, which was as far away as I could get from the perverted guy. I tried to hide behind a random rack of jackets, trying not to be seen by said guy.

When I looked up again, he was gone and I was safe. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed that one of the jackets were unbuttoned. My finger twitched in irritation and I found myself trying to fix the button. Goddamn girls trying on the merchandise then not having the decency to put them back on the right way...

Suddenly, I got this feeling someone was watching me. Have you ever felt like that? It's frickin' weird. Anyway, I didn't know how I knew, but a shudder went down my spine and I cautiously peeked over my shoulder to look out the window. I was half-ready to call security if it was the perverted guy again, but it was just some blond decked out in leather. And she was talking to some other girl anyway, so-

Hold on. That _was_ a girl, right...?

I squinted, trying to make out any curves. Yeah, it was a girl... No, that's a guy, he had some muscles... No, it's definitely a girl. Do you not see those legs?... But wait, his face looks more boy-ish... _Damn_ I'm confused...

"Matt?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned, seeing L. I momentarily pushed the he-she(it's my new scientific turn for the leather-dude/woman. You like?) to the back of my brain and stepped towards my manager.

"Oh, hi L." I raised an eyebrow. "Is there someone who needs help?"

"Yes, actually," L said monotonously. He gestured to a brown-haired girl beside him. "This young lady needs assistance in finding the proper shirt to match the rest of her attire. Seeing as you seem to have a good taste in that area of fashion, Misa's busy, and you look like you could use something to do, you're going to help her." Great. I mean, L's like the father I never had and stuff, but sometimes he gives me too much to do. My gaming, not-used-to-working-my-ass-off self can only take so much.

L was walking away now, attracting stares from our customers with his crouched position and sock-less feet.

"Hi," the brunette girl said. She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Okay, so I was thinking of getting a purple shirt, though I'm not too sure it will match my purple nail polish," she began, tugging me towards a table filled with neatly folded clothes in all kinds of bright colors. (To myself, I screamed, "IT'S A PURPLE SHIRT AND PURPLE NAIL POLISH. OF COURSE IT WILL FUCKIN' MATCH!)

I sighed forlornly, which went ignored by the girl as she held up a purple shirt and pressed it to her chest. I could _not _wait to get home.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I've never been in Justice. So I've no idea what the interior is like. Point out any mistakes if you find any, please. :)**

**From: Atreyl**

_**P.S. From Holli: Dude, I am SOOOOO sorry it took so long to submit this, I had all this craziness going on with my family and friends that I didn't even have a spare two minutes to get on and submit this *dies a little inside* So don't blame Atreyl for the late submission, blame me, kay guys? **_

_**Love me anyway, ~Holli**_


	3. Bored Stalkers

**Mello's POV**

I woke up to two things. My phone screaming _What's Up People _at maximum volume and a text reminder of how much my life sucks.

_**Your shift starts at seven, do not forget, Mello-kun. I will attempt to keep you employed, but I can only do so much.**_

_**OX OX OX,**_

_**~L**_

I groaned and flipped over on my bed, burying my face in my pillow as I glared at the text. My phone, being the piece of shit that it was, continued scrolling down the message automatically, revealing a slightly cheering addition to the text.

_**P.S. I apologize for asking, but what is the significance of oxen in text speech? Misa refuses to tell me.**_

Rolling my eyes I kicked the covers off of me. Contrary to any former belief you might think about a bitchy person like myself, I'm actually pretty good at getting up in the morning. I am what you might call a 'morning person'… at least, if I have my coffee, that is.

Coffee. Jesus… I needed that soon.

I crawled out of my bed and slunk across the floor, bare feet slapping against the cold tile below my feet as I entered the kitchen. My kitchen, if you can even call it that, is really just a fridge, a microwave, and four cabinets, one of which has a door that refuses to close properly no matter how hard I slam it, so instead rests wide open, exposing random items (bread, peanut butter, a few bananas, ect.) to the world. There's also a mini-fridge, which I stole from my University buddy Halle Linder (not technically stole, since she said I could take it, but oh well) which is full of nothing but chocolate bars. I don't need my chocolate to be cold, but cold chocolate is just amazing on a hot day, you know? And…

I better not get on my chocolate rant again, or this will get longer than it needs to be.

Snatching one said chocolate bar from the mini fridge I swing around and throw open my large fridge, rolling my eyes as it makes a loud squeaking sound in protest to being opened. Old shit fridge. After grabbing the milk carton from inside, though the smell of the stuff makes me decide to skip breakfast. I really should go grocery shopping….

I toss the carton into the trash on my way out the door, trying my best to keep my mind of what exactly I'm heading out to do, but really it's rather hopeless. Mello, Mello who hates children, Mello who avoids all things pink at all costs unless it's raspberry filling for chocolate, Mello who has two guns stashed in his house and in his pants (don't judge) at all times, Mello who detests sparkly headbands and the tween girls who wear them, Mello who is _not a girl, _is going to work at _Justice._

How freakin' lovely. But then, Nice-Ass would be there. Nice-Ass not only was insanely attractive (at least from behind) but he looked pretty decent from the glance I got of him. Probably a total nerd, but still. It could be at least a little fun, right?

As the thought passed through my mind, a car zipped by and splashed me with mud, dousing my entire lower body with wetness, thus ruining a perfectly good pair of leather pants.

I didn't believe in omens, but hell, that could not be a good sign.

I arrived at Justice four minutes early in a new pair of pants (these ones were just black jeans, since I couldn't find any other leather ones when I sprinted back to my house to change thanks to that fucked-up mud-splash from that ass-hole driver). Believe it or not I tend to be early to a lot of things, despite my chronic tendency to screw shit up. I'm good at the little things like that, and plus, I hate missing things, _any _things. Even if such things were little tween girls and L and…

Oh, and Nice-Ass. I scanned the store nondescriptly with my eyes before I actually entered the dreaded place, trying my best to spot him, but he was no where to be seen. _Shit, do we have different shifts?_

"Mello-kun."

I twisted my head around to find the source of the voice that had called me, which of course was L, standing in his usual hunched fashion right inside the door. I nodded to him but didn't smile, instead just stalking my way into the store. There was no one inside as of yet, meaning the store wasn't open quite yet (thank god, I could _not _deal with little girls right now).

"Hey Lawli, I'm here~" I chirped with fake enthusiasm, ensuing some sarcastic jazz hands beside my head. As usual, though, L didn't catch the sarcasm, flashing me a smile of his own.

"I am glad you are so enthusiastic, Mello-kun. That's one of the requirements here," he replied cheerfully. I frowned deeply at this, but he ignored me, spinning on his bare heel and gesturing to the cashier's desk. "That's the cashier desk," he explained pointlessly. "Which is where you'll probably be working most of the time, but you'll also be required to do other jobs such as helping customers and-""L, I think I get it," I cut him off in a rough tone, something most people would never dare do, since it was L and he was a rather intimidating person to people who don't know him well. L blinked and looked up at me again, a slight glimmer of anger and distaste in his eyes for a moment before he seemed to remember it was _me _he was talking to and let his expression soften into his usual blank gaze.

"Ah, yes, I suppose that is correct, you did work at Hot Topic for a while there, correct?" he inquired. I nodded my head (that hadn't been a fun job, actually, since the ass-hole guy I worked with kept trying to make me let him dye my hair and shit) and he continued, "Well then you'll get the gist of this. Since you're new in the store, however, you'll be expected to listen to everything you're elder employees tell you, alright? Matt will help you with any problems or questions you have."I scan the room with my eyes again, spotting a bubbly blonde girl with pigtails scampering about on the other side of the room who sends shivers down my spine just looking at (_is THAT what the employees are like here?_) but who most certainly isn't Matt. "Where's the guy? The Matt kid?" I inquired. Inwardly I was praying he wasn't some kind of jock or something lame, which is what the name Matt makes me originally think of since there's a Matthew in our University who's a total blockhead, because I wouldn't be able to deal with that.

L's half-smile fades into a scowl. "Good question," he replied bluntly, turning towards the door. "He should be here soon, he's always a bit late."Just as the word _late _escaped L's mouth, said youth came bursting through the doors, slowing his pace just inside the door at a screeching halt. I froze looking at him, all senses immediately activated into overdrive.

Red hair, _very _red hair, goggles (yes, goggles, weird as hell right?) adjusted on top of his eyes, really soft looking fuzzy vest that I really wanted to poke, black and white long-sleeved shirt, tight skinny jeans… a very tell-tale ass…

So Nice-Ass had my shift after all.

I watched with dim curiosity from behind a rack of really disgusting looking flavored lip-gloss (who on Earth wears all this crap?) as Nice-Ass scrambled around at the counter, exchanging a few words with the blonde girl before settling down at the counter. I pretended half-heartedly to listen to what L was saying (something about being respectful to customers despite age or some shit) as I watched him discreetly pull out some sort of hand-held game system from his pocket, eyes darting over to L worriedly before burying himself into the gaming world. It clicked in my mind then.

Nice-Ass was a nerd. In fact with t hat get-up he looked like the kind of nerd who stayed up all night playing video games, just to beat a level. The kind of guy who joined those weird guild things and spent all their money on the latest update on their Playstation-Whatever.

The kind of nerd who had a really freakin' nice body. What the fuck?

"Mello-kun, are you listening to me? I just asked you a question." L insisted on my attention, it seemed, and I turned my head to look at him.

Keeping my expression casual I let out a tiny lopsided smile as I answered, "Not really."

L rolled his eyes, turning and gesturing to Nice-Ass (which I suppose must actually be called Matt, but whatever) with a nod of his head. "Well, I suppose Matt will keep your attention better than I will," he guessed whimsically, a tiny flicker of something or another in his eyes, possibly teasing. I shot him a glare, but he was right, of course. I always paid more attention to people who interested me, and though L was a very interesting man, I'd gone through enough years of trying to figure him out.

Nodding, L took this as his leave, striding off towards a small office in the back that I hadn't noticed before just as the first few customers filed in. The giddy girl in the back of the store, blonde hair bobbing behind her, rushed to greet them with a giant grin on her face, high pitched voice calling out, "Welcome to Justice! Looking for anything in particular todayyy~?"

Note to self: avoid spaz-head blonde.

Striding across the store and dodging a over-excited brunette on her way towards the bathing suit section of the store I made my way over to the cashier's desk, leaning half-casually on the counter in front of Nice-Ass. I didn't say anything, though, choosing instead to simply stare him down until he noticed me. It wasn't that hard of a thing to do at least at first, since he was quite the looker, and not just in his ass. High cheek bones, full lips, animated face that twitched and expressed as he played (he was probably playing some difficult part judging by the concentrated frown on his lips at that moment). His hair was cut nicely so that it just brushed his goggles, which annoyingly covered any evidence that he had eyes, and I could tell he had some sort of muscle under that baggy shirt as well by the way it laid on his back when he crouched over the game.

After about twenty seconds Nice-Ass finally noticed my presence (it usually takes less than this, trust me) but barely glanced up from his game to do so before looking back to it as he talked. "So you're the new employee, right?" he inquired. I mm-hmmed in reply, not bothering to give him an actual response since he clearly wasn't paying any real attention to me (jackass). Then he seemed to remember something, blinking and turning around, eyes not leaving his game as he shuffled one-handedly through some t hings under the desk. I frowned and watched him as he did this, a look of extreme concentration on his face until he inexplicably pulled out a sparkly dark-blue headband from the shelf under the desk, slapping it down on the counter.

Before I could ask what the hell that was about, he told me. "Just wear the headband," he said bluntly, clicking a few more buttons on his game. "All the new female employees have to."

I froze, eyes widening in shock. _Female? _This nice-assed son of a bitch thought I was a chick! I felt the temper inside of me start to boil, my hands clenching into fists as I watched Nice-Ass happily click away at his game, not even bothering to look up at me to see what the deal was. What a fucking…

I really shouldn't have done what I did next, but I did it anyway.

"I am a _boy _you son of a bitch!" I roared, slamming my fists down on the counter, voice ringing over the sound of Justin Beiber shit-music playing in the background. Nice-Ass jumped in surprise, head snapping up just as my fist was sent on a collision course with his face.

His perfect face crumpled under my attack and he fell backwards, howling in pain and surprise as I found myself doing a forward flip over the counter, sending the both of us barreling onto the floor. I shouldn't have been surprised that he wasn't much of a fighter, though he did get a few solid kicks to my thighs before I finally just pinned him face-first onto the pink-and-white tiled floor.

In the back of my mind I knew this position was rather compromising, what with me pinning him down, knees resting rather blatantly on his ass - which I was rather seriously tempted to feel up, by the way, but resisted, instead twining one hand in his hair and holding his head down and pressing the other hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he was pleading, wriggling helplessly under me with a look of extreme panic in his eyes. "I seriously didn't even look at you that well, I can tell you're a guy! I'm easily distracted!""You're a fucking idiot, that's what you are," I growled back, still highly irritated. "You could have glanced up from that thing for two fucking seconds, you ass."

He twisted slightly to glare up at me, much to my surprise, though I could barely see his eyes at all from under the goggles. "Well _so-ree _if you have a feminine figure!" he snapped, squirming a bit.

My eyes widened in shock, not altogether offended by his accusation but rather surprised that he even argued with me. Most people simply begged for mercy until I got off of them, but-

Nice-Ass took my shock as an opportunity, spinning his body around and throwing me to the side. I caught myself on my palm just barely to avoid collision with the counter (which was luckily obscuring most of the view of our fight from customers, though we were frightening the hell out of a duo of small redheaded girls waiting to check out) but it was futile, since he jumped at me in attempt to pin me down again.

He was a lot bigger than me, in bulk anyway since I'm rather lithe (though I'm happy to say I think I'm at least a few centimeters taller) but I'm a better fighter, and I tuck my legs into my stomach and deliver a kick to his chest, sending him falling upwards and stumbling over his boots. I leapt to my feet and threw myself at him again, quite ready to hastily rip him to shreds (or at least his pants… oh god, mind out of the gutter please) only to have myself choked by the edge of my shirt. Gagging I spun around to find that L had grabbed me by the back of my shirt, said raven-haired man's leg currently pressed against Nice-Ass's chest in order to block him from moving forward as well. He was twisted in such a way that would look impossible on anyone but him, but I'd seen it many times before - what was horrifying to me was the intense blackness of his eyes, the only way one could tell anger on L's face.

_Shit._

"Mello, do not attack Matt, at least not in my store, please," L said monotonously, just a hint of anger there. It was a tone that would make you think you were off the hook to anyone who didn't know him well - really, L was furious. "Matt, do not make offensive comments to Mello, and try to pay more attention - put the game away." Matt seemed to know that tone too, his face paling slightly as he shoved the game device back into his vest pocket.

L then turned to me, clearly taking this problem as my fault (and probably rightfully so) and narrowing his eyes. "Mello, I can't really say I'm surprised you've caused a fight," he told me bluntly, causing me to flinch slightly under his reprimand, since he _was _one of the only people I actually cared about the opinion of. I felt myself shrinking little by metaphorical little as he continued, "But I am rather ashamed of you - Matt is here to help you, and just because of one comment you shouldn't have attacked him. If you weren't a close friend of mine-"Out of seemingly no where, though, Matt spoke up, something that surprised me highly. "It was my fault too," he squeaked, the high-pitched nervousness in his voice being what would be amusing in almost any other situation. L blinked and turned to him, a frown on his face. "We'll be better," he added, flashing a smile. If I wasn't currently irked at him, I'd have melted because of that particular nervous, lopsided grin, but instead I only glared in his direction. Still I failed to keep the gears in my head from turning. _So he's not a total dick, I guess…_

"Very well," L said after a while, sighing and shaking his head. "Just get back to work. Mello, take cashier duty." Wait, he was letting us off the hook? That was new. I grinned a little at this, mostly because I knew it wouldn't last.

Matt - who it seemed I had subconsciously started calling by his real name, what a pity - seemed to deflate with relief, the smile vanishing to a lopsided half-smile that seemed to be his default expression as he scrambled away to do whatever Justice employees do. Just as he did this I caught him glancing over his s houlder at me, though, a weird expression on his face; I met said glance with a snaky smirk, just for fun, and he quickly looked away with a scowl. I grinned and turned to the cash register, glancing over it's simple workings without even a trickle of interest. No, my interest was invested in Nice-Ass (or rather in Matt) at that moment. I couldn't place exactly why, but he was interesting. Fun to toy with, in any case. Plus, he was fucking hot.

This job wouldn't be so bad…maybe.

Oh fuck who was I kidding. Between random girls flirting with me (_oh the look on their faces when I told them I was gay, though, that was priceless_), to being forced to give people advice on what pants matched their body types (_you're twelve, you don't even have to worry about that yet!_), to dealing with Misa (who turned out to be the most annoying girl on the planet), to having Nice-Ass avoid me all day (_well you did punch him in the jaw…_), to listening to Disney-channel shit all day (_Hannah Montana? I mean really!_), to just plain sitting around waiting for customers, the rest of the day was pure hell. I survived only because L, being the sweetheart that he is, bought me a chocolate mocha from StarBucks. That, and because when Matt was swerving around to avoid me I got a lot of good looks at his ass.

Yeah, I'm kind of a perv, sue me.

By 10:30 I was nearly spent, full ready for my eyes to start bleeding or some shit, and I still had half an hour left. I had only been there three and a half hours and I was already dying - how pathetic. Still, it was almost done, though my shifts _were _a lot shorter on week days. I took all afternoon and night classes at the University (praise the lord for that, it made everything so much more convenient…) so I could take morning shifts as I was now for Justice, which is why I took the 7-11 shift.

I peeked at the clock for the seventeenth time in the last forty seconds to see that it was 10:45 now. I was about to mutter more profanity when a bouncy brunette girl came sauntering over to the counter. And by bouncy I am being completely literal - I'm talking her chest was practically pornography. There was no way in hell judging by her outfit that she was actually here to shop, in any case, and by the way she was eyeing me I knew exactly why she was here.

So before she could say anything, I quipped, "I'm gay." My voice was so casual you might have thought it was my normal greeting towards people (it isn't), and her face went pale. Clearly I was correct, because she quickly pulled up her shirt, face flushing out in a rather unattractive way.

"I-I… alright," she blurted stupidly, twirling her hair around on her finger nervously. "I-I'll just take some nail polish." I had to smirk a little as she clumsily grasped for a random bottle of polish beside her, which happened to be a pasty yellow (who has pasty yellow nail polish anyway, would that even show up?) and clacking it down on the counter in front of me with a lopsided, nervous grin. If this were an anime, it would be her cue to have sweat drops go down her forehead.

"Alright, that'll be twenty seven dollars," I told her, making up a random price off the top of my head and not even scanning the item. She was so caught up in her own little nervous breakdown that she didn't even notice, slapping down thirty bucks on the counter and snatching the bottle. Just to be mean out of general spite for skanks like her, I added, "And please, this is a children's store. Don't expose yourself - it's fucking distasteful."

Not pausing to get her change she nodded hastily, shoving her shirt up almost to her neck before scrambling away, almost colliding with a mother toting a toddler on her way out the door. I snickered to myself and turned around…

…To find Matt bent over searching through some sort of box, wiggling his hips back and forth to whatever techno-rap was playing above our heads (better than Disney whatever it was) as he did it. I immediately stopped whatever I had been doing (I don't remember what, too distracted at the moment) to ogle him. Damn, I hadn't been kidding myself before when I said he had a fine lower half, because holy Hershey-flavored hell, he _did. _Every gay gene in my body _wanted that ass._

Fuck, I'm turning into a complete pervert. I realized after a few more moments of staring that Matt had twisted around to look at me over his shoulder, an awkward yet adorable kind of position. The next thing I noticed was that his eyes were wide behind his goggles, a look of great confusion and concern on his face. "Um… what are you doing?" he inquired tentatively, pulling a frilly pink tank top out of the box he was shuffling through, eyes flickering with uncertainly.

Not bothering to be discreet, I shrugged and told him the truth. "Just staring at your ass."

I swear, I'd never seen a boy stand up and flee so quickly as he did right then. And all I could do in response was laugh.

This boy _was _entertaining.

**Matt's POV**

I was late again the next morning. Normally I wouldn't care, but dude, that's the eighth time in a row. A guy like me _does _eventually get guilty, you know? Plus, I'd taken the 7 am - 11 pm shift, meaning I had an extra hour to sleep. Yet still, I was late.

I woke up at exactly 6:55 am and had a minute to choke down a handful of cereal. I took a swig of milk before starting to get dressed, finally finishing in two minutes. I tripped down the stairs more than once as I tried to run to the front curb, where my car was. As I usually did, I unlocked my car(no complications, thankfully), shoved myself in, and was hurtling down the road so fast I nearly ran over several of my neighbors(sorry, old lady with the cat!).

Surprisingly, I haven't been given any speeding tickets yet. I mean, I drive with an average of 25 miles above the speed limit, but no cop has stopped me and charged me for breaking the law. Not that they'd catch me, of course... My lips twitched up in a little smile as I conjured up an image of the cops chasing me, though only losing in the end. I was so caught up in the fantasy that I nearly ran into a stop sign. I swerved the car to the left and didn't stop, only going faster.

See what I mean? I'm 30 miles per hour above the speed limit, yet no cop has popped out to arrest me. It's either they love me, which is weird, or I'm lucky. It's probably the latter.

I was entering the mall's parking lot sometime later. Just before I turned off the ignition, I caught a glimpse of the time. 7:02 am.

Cursing to myself, I walked to the mall's entrance. I was silently thankful that it was too early in the morning for people to be shopping, and not many children were up this early anyway, so the halls were completely kid-free.

I hoped L wouldn't be roaming the store. Usually, Misa was the first one to arrive and L assigned her to take attendance most of the time. L was really, _really _strict about being on time. Being one minute late to him was like committing a crime. He punished us by giving extra shifts, or giving us customers to help that were hard to work with.

My anxiety grew, the fact that I was now three minutes late didn't help. I found myself sprinting to Justice. I reached the store, skidding to a stop just as I passed the entrance, narrowly avoiding a rack of clothes. The first thing my eyes were drawn to was a blob of yellow. Well, I could guess it was yellow. It was brighter, and shinier. Maybe gold? Damn, it made me want to run my fingers through the silky str-

_Oh, shit. _I noticed L, who had a scowl etched onto his face. I instinctively locked my eyes with the floor, walking quickly past him and behind the counters. Misa was there to greet me.

"Sorry, Mattie," she whispered. "I tried to get him to stay in his office 'til you arrived, because Misa-Misa knew you were going to be late. But he said there was a new employee and he needed to greet them." She had a guilty look on her face.

"It's all right, he doesn't seem to mad," I murmured. She let me past, and I busied myself with setting up the register. Once it was ready, I scoped the room and found that it was still empty, save for Misa, L, and another blond girl who I thought was the new employee. I figured I could probably play for a while, at least until someone was ready to check out.

I took out my PSP(I'd be lying if I told you it was easy to pocket anything in these damn skinny jeans), resuming my game of Street Fighter. I'd won two battles with Ryu already when I heard the noise level slowly escalating, a signal that customers were coming. Great, I probably only had about five more minutes of gaming until one of those annoying girls would come up and either start flirting or hand me things to ring up(well, at least they couldn't molest my vest if I stayed behind the counter the whole time). Either way, I was unhappy. Ryu was getting his ass kicked, and I swear to god if I lost the match, I'd dramatically throw my PSP to the ground and then scream in agony. Not that I actually would. Scream, maybe. But harming my precious PSP? No way in hell.

I focused on my game harder, the tip of my tongue poking out from the corner of my lips as I frantically tried to beat my opponent. Punch, Ryu, punch, punch, _punch-!_

I became aware someone was staring at me.

Pausing my game, I glanced upwards. Oh. It was just the new girl. Unpausing my game, I balanced my PSP on my right while simultaneously pressing buttons. My left hand expertly dug around a cardboard box beside my foot until I found what I was looking for, setting the accessory on the counter. The thing was sparkly and dark blue, and even though I found it a little pretty, it was too girly. Which was perfectly why all the female employees had to wear them.

I told the new girl this fact, pushing the headband towards her. I returned my left hand to my game, finally beating my enemy when Ryu delivered a hard kick to his stomach. I allowed myself to grin triumphantly, basking in the glow of winning. Now, I just needed to save...

"I am a _boy _you son of a bitch!" I heard the girl screech, her voice effectively overpowering my game's theme music. I noted the manly tone in it, and I realized my mistake. Stricken, I looked up to apologize, only to find my face in the way of a fist.

I let out a surprised noise, tumbling backwards and losing grip of my game. I watched in horror as it landed on the tiled floor, only to be tackled to the ground also by a flurry of leather and blond hair. I automatically started to fight back, because _no one _messed with my PSP and got away with it.

Apparently, the _man _was freakin' strong and he pinned my face down to the floor, practically forcing me to taste the pink tiles. Eww, tastes like nail polish and lip gloss and barf...

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I repeated, trying to wriggle my way closer to my PSP. I needed to know if I'd saved. "I seriously didn't even look at you that well, I can tell you're a guy! I'm easily distracted!" I told him honestly, feeling desperate.

"You're a fucking idiot, that's what you are," he growled lowly. "You could have glanced up from that thing for two fucking seconds, you ass." His blond hair was touching an uncovered part of my neck, and I was reminded that _this _was the guy who had hair I wanted to run my hands through. Damn, looks could deceive.

I twisted my neck into an uncomfortable angle to glare at him. "Well, sor_ry _if you have a feminine figure!" I said angrily. Jeez, all this for a teensy little comment I made?

His eyes were wide now, and I took this as a cue to act. I twisted my torso 180 degrees, throwing him to the side. I caught him off-guard so my plan worked, and I dove at him like some fuckin' rabid dog jumping after a cat. I tried to pin him down, but he delivered a hard kick to my chest. The impact forced me on my feet a little but then I went down again, crashing on my butt. It hurt and I bit back a groan of pain, knowing the psychotic blond would be going at my throat again. I rose to my haunches, ready to meet him halfway. Unexpectedly, someone's bare foot collided with my chest and I was almost thrown back had not my arms been supporting me.

The moment I felt an impending sense of doom I knew it was L(who else walked around barefoot, anyway?). I looked up, drinking in the sight before me. The crazy he-she(well, _he_) was being restrained by, indeed, L.

"Mello," my manager said, addressing my attacker, "do not attack Matt, at least not in my store, please."

So his name was Mello. I was tempted to say the name out loud, but figured it would be rude to interrupt L.

"Matt," L said, turning to me, "do not make offensive comments to Mello, and try to pay more attention." I kept my eyes on him dutifully as my hand reached to the side to grab my PSP. "Put the game away," L ordered. I paled, knowing that L had blown a gasket. Shit, he rarely got angry, and when he did...

I figured that trying to shove my PSP into my skinny jeans wouldn't be fitting in the situation, so I had to resort to putting it in my vest pocket. I was trying to secretly check that my game had been saved(it had) when I heard L blaming the Mello guy for the fight.

"It was my fault too," I spoke up in a tiny voice. Sure, Mello had started the fight, but I had fought back, so...

When L looked at me with a hard look, I added, "We'll be better." I even threw in a smile, hoping they'd do the trick. Luckily they did, and L sighed, shaking his head in what I thought was disappointment.

"Very well," he said. "Get back to work. Mello, take cashier duty." As he walked away, I exhaled in relief and stood up, a lazy expression taking over my face. I shuffled away to fold some shirts that had been sloppily put back when I realized Mello was still back there. I glanced back, not really sure what to say. I considered apologizing, even though he didn't look like he would apologize back. I caught his eyes and I was about to say the apology when he smirked at me.

The bastard. Fuckin'. Smirked.

All intentions of apologizing went out an imaginary window, and I scowled, sharply looking away. I stomped to the misplaced shirts, silently seething.

_Calm down, Matt, _I told myself. _He probably wants you to get worked up at him. _Nodding slightly to myself, I began to fold a white t-shirt neatly. I was halfway done when I saw Mello getting too close to me in peripheral vision. I dropped the shirt I was folding and tried to be casual about runni-_walking _away from him.

Three and a half hours slowly dragged on. I was on edge the whole time, practically sprinting away the moment I saw that Mello was within ten feet of me. Needless to say, he look amused, which angered me even more. He also looked miserable, though. I didn't blame him; the first time I worked here without my goggles my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets from all the pink. That was why I'd made a point to wear my goggles everyday. They tinted the pink and made it seem purplish.

I realized, as I sneaked a fiftieth glance at Mello, that he seemed to avoid Misa like she had a plague. I inwardly did a victory dance and walked over to Misa, sure that I was now untouchable. Sadly, the girl Misa was helping was asking if we had a bigger size of a shirt she was holding up. Misa turned to me and asked me if I could go get it for her. Being the nice person I was(that, and L was doing his hourly check-up on us), I nodded and turned towards the directions of the cashiers.

Fuck. Mello was there, talking to some slutty-looking girl with short shorts. I slipped behind him, unnoticed as he commented on the girl's too-revealing outfit. I bent down to rummage through a box of shirts, trying to find a size 9 shirt. As the song over the radio ended, a new one began, and I noticed with glee that it wasn't any of Disney channel's usual crap. I hummed along with the song, unconsciously moving my hips too as I searched for the shirt. I was perfectly focused on the task at hand until I felt that _feeling _again. The one where it was like someone was staring at me. (Jeez, I wonder why I've been feeling like that so much lately.)

Clutching a random shirt, I turned my head to look at Mello, who I'd been fully suspecting before I even turned around. With a blush, I noticed that his eyes were trained on a _specific part of my lower back. _

"Um... What are you doing?" I asked dumbly, though I already knew the answer. I didn't why I just stayed in that position, still bent over with my ass exposed to Mello's perverted gaze. It took a few seconds for his blue eyes to flicker over, meeting my gaze with an air of confidence.

He shrugged. "Just staring at your ass," he stated bluntly.

I let out an indignant little squeak as I scrambled away, back to the safety of Misa. My squeak went unheard as Mello's laugh resounded behind me.

I was fuming when I reached my fellow female co-worker, handing her the top.

"Mattie," the perky blonde said, "This is a size 12!"

My eye twitched. "Well I _was _paying attention until I caught him staring at my ass blatantly," I muttered, taking back the shirt.

Misa giggled. "Who?" Her eyes locked on something behind me and she was smart enough to catch on. "Ohhhh!" She giggled again, saying in a teasing voice, "Mattie-kun has a stalker!"

My cheeks warmed and I pulled her behind a column, the one with a mirror on it. "Yeah, and he's being pretty open about it," I grumbled.

"I'll get back to you later!" Misa chirped to the girl she was helping. "Wait! You can give this to the nice guy up there on the counter and ask for the size you want!" Misa suggested.

The raven-haired girl nodded, taking the shirt and rushing away. I peeked out from behind the column after her, watching as Mello yanked the shirt out of her hands and replace it with the correct one. I saw the girl lean forward closer to Mello, obviously flirting... Then Mello smirked and said, "I'm gay." I was too far to actually hear him say it, but I was fairly good at lip-reading. Besides, what else could he have said? 'I'm hay?' Yeah, he'd definitely just announced his sexuality.

Suddenly, he was looking at me. Smirking, too, as if he knew that I'd heard him and he was happy that I had.

Pervert. Creepy, perverted stalker was a title that nicely suited him.

I quickly ducked behind the column again, looking at Misa for help. She was smiling. "Aww, Mello's attracted to Mattie!" she sing-songed.

_Yeah, _I thought wearily. _He's definitely attracted. _

"Anyway, it's not Mello's fault!" Misa exclaimed, spinning me around to face the mirror. "Mattie's so adorable." She pinched my cheek playfully.

I winced. "Um, sure," I said uncertainly, wondering what was so _cute _about my appearance. My hair was as red as it could be, always sticking out in a crowd. With my lanky figure (although I did a few muscles) and weird outfit I looked... Well, I looked like a nerd, especially with my goggles. They hid my eyes, the only thing about me I found nice.

So why did Mello harass me, anyway(besides my ass)? He was just probably creepy that way.

After an involuntary shudder, I walked out from behind the column and tried to focus on helping customers. I stayed behind a rack of jackets as often as I could, helping the people there. When I glanced at the clock and saw it was 11 o'clock, I silently cheered and got ready to leave Justice. God, I couldn't wait to get home.

Now I just had to cross my fingers and hope Mello's shift didn't end at the same time.

**A/N: Sooooo, did you like it? XD I loved Atreyl's part personally. Anyhow here's an update, the next one will be soon...erorlater. X3 R&R? -Holli**


	4. Men's Restroom Romance

**A/N: Ah yes, another lovely update. I'll have you know I risked the wrath of an infuriated stepmother to write my part of this, for I wasn't technically suppose to be on the CPU at the moment but she was outside power-washing the upstairs garage, so you better be freakin' grateful, kiddies! XDDD loljk. But we hope you do enjoy!**

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**Matt's POV**

Mello's shift did end at the same time, after all. We didn't have, um, any _interactions_, though. I'm not spiritual or something like that, but I fully believed that it was a good sign. It turned out to be true, since the following morning, I actually woke up on time.

I had a pleasant breakfast(cereal and a grape), which naturally sent me into a good mood. I mean, nothing beats cereal and a grape, right? Yeah. I even had enough time to play a bit on my PSP. It was a good day, so far.

Until the old lady with the cat happened, that is.

Remember when I said I was sorry for nearly running her over? I take that back. Her face can be scratched off by her cat and I wouldn't give a damn. I wouldn't think like that about others, because, really, who thinks, 'Oh, I just met this guy-DIE, DIE, DIE!' anymore? This old lady deserved a freakin' medal.

I was just searching for my keys when my doorbell rang. After almost burning myself with an iron(yeah, I iron my clothes, all right?) I opened the door to find Mrs. Pavlakovich standing there, smiling toothlessly with her fat tabby cat in her arms. Seriously, who could carry a cat that large and not tip over?

Apparently, her.

"Matt," Mrs. Pavlakovich croaked, "I've been running low in money lately, and my rent's due in three days. Would you mind helping a neighbor out?" She winked.

I prevented myself from blurting out, 'That was _disgusting,_' knowing she'd only sic her cat on me. Tch. As if a cat as fat as that would even be able to move out of her arms. "Um," I said uncertainly. "I've been having trouble, too, and..." I trailed off, trying to find an excuse. Whatever happened, I could _not _let her sway me to lending her money. First of all, she never paid back, and second, there was a new Final Fantasy game I'd been saving up for for months. I was not going to give it up for some damn cat-lady.

"Please, Matty?" Mrs. Pavlakovich almost pleaded. She looked at me with what were supposed to be puppy eyes, but came out all squinty. The cat in her arms hissed at me.

"N-no!" I stammered, hastily slamming the door shut on her face. Hyperventilating, I leaned against the door. I'd just saved myself from paying twice the amount for rent, but had signed up for mysteriously finding cat shit all over the carpet. You heard me, that old lady is _crazy! _She asks you to pay her rent for her, and if you don't, she somehow sneaks her cat into your living space so it could crap all over your floor.

Evil. Who knew so much evil could be contained in a small, wrinkly body? Ugh.

I finally found my keys laying in plain sight on the counter. I pocketed them, then cautiously peeked out the door. There was no Mrs. Pavlakovich stalking around, so I deemed the coast clear and walked out, trying to be quiet. I locked my apartment door in vain, knowing the crazy hag would manage to break in anyway. I turned to leave, caught a glance at the door, and groaned. Right there, next to my door, was a pile of brownish-greenish shit. Damn you, Mrs. Pavlakovich.

Careful to avoid the mess, I jogged down to my car. I knew I'd have to clean it up later, seeing as the landlord was too cheap to hire a maid. He did the cleaning himself. When he felt like it, that is, so that was never.

There was some rock song playing on the radio as I drove to my job, and I managed to belt out the lyrics with the singer. It helped with my mood a bit, and I found myself believing I could make it through my 7-11(okay, I took the four-hour shift again, I'm guilty...) shift. I was a few minutes early, I noticed as I parked in the spot closest to the entrance. Maybe L would finally get off my back about yesterday.

As I got out of my car and locked it, a voice said, "Hey, Nice-Ass," making me jump five feet in the air and three feet to the left. Having a good feeling of who it was, I turned around and found myself staring at Mello, who was smirking and leaning back against his motorcycle. Damn it, why didn't I see him before I parked?

"That's not my name," I said through gritted teeth. Fuck, why couldn't he just leave me alone?

Mello lifted his chin haughtily. "I know," he said, giving me a look that said, _'I know your name, but I think I like calling you Nice-Ass better.'_

Bastard. "Well, I've gotta get to, um-" I gestured behind me to the mall, giving him one last look before spinning around and starting to walk briskly towards the building. Mello didn't harass me any further, instead choosing to walk after me.

"Oh, my gosh, your vest is, like, so fluffy!" a redheaded girl squealed, attacking me when I took my fourth step inside the mall.

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to be subtle about prying her off of me. I was aware Mello was laughing, not bothering to stifle it as he stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms and smirking at me with that damn smirk. "Please get off!" I finally said, breaking the girl's death-grip around my waist. She stumbled back, eyes watering.

Randomly screaming, "Everybody hates me!" she ran off somewhere. Hm. As L would have probably said, she must be having her period.

Glaring once at Mello(still laughing, by the way), I stomped off to Justice without giving him any more attention.

"Good morning, Mattie!" Misa greeted, throwing her arms around me the second I entered the tween girl store. The cheery aura lessened my pissy mood a little.

"It's refreshing to see you here on time, Matt," L said. "Maybe Mello is a good influence on you." He glanced behind me, where I presumed Mello was standing. "I need to make a phone call, now, so please try not to come in my office unless totally necessary. Misa, you are in charge of keeping everyone in line."

Misa nodded, pigtails bouncing. "Yes, sir!" she said dutifully.

L, as always, took her seriously, nodding back with satisfaction. He retreated into the back office, making me wonder what he did back there besides 'working.' After all, he was L, genius extraordinaire. It didn't sound right that he'd take six hours to finish whatever he did.

Meh. Beats me. I had a job to do, anyway. I couldn't get distracted.

_Right, _I thought, pulling out my PSP and leaning back against the counter. _No getting distracted._

Misa didn't mind that I gamed when I was supposed to be helping around the customers and never told L about it. She was actually really nice, once you get past her over-bearing and too energetic personality. Most of the time, I depended on her not to snitch on me whenever I was late or whenever I felt like going to the shop next door to get a lollipop. Strangely enough, all she asked for return was a hug.

Anyway, back to the present. I was clicking away at my handheld gaming device when suddenly I saw a flash of golden hair(and I still wanted to run my hands through it, damn it) and leather. I jolted backwards, slamming my thigh against the counter painfully.

Mello just laughed sadistically as he smoothly picked up a lip gloss from one of the boxes and glided away to whichever customer it was for. He enjoyed torturing me-wait, no, that's the biggest understatement of the year. He took pleasure in seeing me run away from me. Damn, was I some sort of entertainment to him? Jackass.

"Hey," a sultry voice whispered in my ear. The hairs in the back of my neck stood up, I swear, as I slowly wheeled around, slipping my PSP into my pocket.

"What?" I asked irately, wondering how the heck I was in such a good mood this morning and suddenly short-tempered within an hour. I blamed Mello.

I forced myself to focus on the person, only to find out in despair it was that perverted guy(the other one...not Mello) from two days or so back. His black hair was swept to the side, and I remembered from my photographic memory that he was still wearing the same checkered blue shirt and jeans. What, was he a hobo or something? Did he not have a home to come home to and shower and eat and change clothes in? Speaking of which, I totally feel for homeless gay people. They don't have closets to come out of.

"So, I broke up with my girlfriend," the guy said conversationally, smiling at me in an attempt at being seductive. "I'm free now. How about we go out tonight and grab some dinner?"

Okay, I'll admit he did look remotely hot. I might have said yes...if he hadn't tried to hit on me last time and epically failed (that and if I was gay, which I'm _not…_). Damn, I still could see him doing that stupid hair flip. Ha! "No thanks, I'm actually busy tonight," I told him, coming out from behind the counter to hang some shirt back on its hanger. I silently hoped he'd leave me alone. Weren't enough people perving on me already?

"My name's Jason," the guy said quickly, walking after me. As I busily hung the shirt, the perv's arms wrapped around my waist. "And I can give you the best damn ride of your-"

"No! For the last time, dude, no, and back off!" I shouted, interrupting him from saying the shittiest pick-up line ever. I turned around, scowling, fists clenched in case they were needed. I wasn't much of a fighter, but I knew a few moves from playing so many fighting games.

"Hey, come on," Jason chided, trapping me in between the rack and his body, bigger than me in mass.

I was going to scream "Rape!" when suddenly I found another pair of lips pressing against mine. The kiss was disgustingly sloppy, and he forced me in place while he tilted his head to kiss deeper. Dear god, I wanted to die on the spot.

When Jason finally pulled away, he grinned. "Change your mind?" he asked, tugging on my sleeve a little.

I could only gape at him, seeing Misa staring in shock, to our left, too, with Mello by her side. The unfamiliar taste of nicotine flooded my taste buds and I shoved Jason back, kicking him where the sun don't shine. When he groaned and stumbled back, holding his crotch blatantly, I ran out of the store, past a frozen Misa, to the nearest bathroom.

I barreled through the door, almost forgetting to push instead of pulling. I ran past two guys in the midst of peeing, straight towards the an unoccupied stall and not bothering to shut it behind me. Not a second later, the contents of my stomach emptied itself into the toilet. I puked again once or twice, then flopped back tiredly against the stall, feeling like I'd been trampled by a bull and pissed on by a goat.

Nicotine never was a good thing for me. I tried smoking when I was dared at sixteen years old. I reluctantly sucked in the poison into my mouth, and instead of smoothly exhaling the smoke, I sent myself into a coughing fit and somehow almost had an asthma attack. After that, I never went near a cigarette ever again. I guess the suddenness of the nicotine just surprised my stomach. That, and cereal doesn't really taste good with nicotine. It didn't matter. I was just glad I didn't need to be sent to the hospital.

I drew my knees in to my chest, taking calm breaths. The bathroom was now empty except for my breathing, meaning that the two other guys had fled when they heard me retching. However, there was the sound of the bathroom door being swung open, and the _click clack _of boots against the white-tiled floors. Seconds passed and I heard the stall door being pushed open. I blearily opened an eye.

And of course, who'd be standing there in his glorious, leather-clad self other than Mello?

**Mello's POV**

What the _fuck _is this!

Okay, wait, let me rewind really quick. Today, before that what-in-the-name-of-the-sweet-lord-is-going-on moment I mentioned briefly, had been a pretty good day, considering the circumstances. I woke up nice and early and had time to jog around the neighborhood, and despite almost getting hit by a car and having my ritual scream-out argument with that old man across the street, it had been a pretty good walk in it's essence. So I got to work in a good mood; I worked in a few half-friendly teases with Matt, all of which made him squeal and run for the hills (you should have seen him in the parking lot, cutest fucking thing ever when he's startled, seriously!) but none the less entertained me. Misa had somehow managed throughout the day to be semi-decent, and actually turned out to have a pretty good sense of fashion (we had an almost hour long conversation about Lolita wear over a box of chocolates… _don't even fucking laugh_); I got flirted with by a few girls (three), all of which I managed to go pale within the first two seconds; I also got flirted with by a gay guy, who was actually pretty cute but his flirting was obnoxious so I turned him down - besides, I had the distraction of Nice-Ass to think about, and…

Anyway. My point here is that I wasn't really expecting this day to take such a turn for the worse.

Here I was, standing around and listening to Misa blurt random shit in my ear (like I said, _semi_-decent) and preparing to cut her off and hurry away to help a customer who didn't really look like she needed assistance, when _that _happened. By _that _I mean the pervy guy.

At first, it was funny. This total emo guy who looked like he just walked out of Hot Topic and bought all the wrong clothes, then spent seven hours doing his hair in the men's restroom only to have it flop in that same position, walks in and I'm like 'what a douche, no way he shops here.' And I was right, of course, and I fully expected him to go flirt with Misa (as most guys who walk in do) but instead he walks right up to the cash register.

And then starts _flirting with Matt._

Okay, okay, I admit it. I got a little possessive. A little tiny voice in my head was screeching _that is YOUR ASS, go take it back! _But of course I didn't, because A) kind of really not my business in reality and B) it was actually pretty hilarious to watch. Poor tortured soul he was, I could seriously see the hair on the back of his neck rise when that guy snuck up on him. And I was semi-pleased when he turned around, obviously expecting me at first, and his face went even _paler, _meaning more than likely he liked me more than this guy (small victory, I know, but shut your mouth).

But then things got creepy. Matt went trotting away when the guy was obviously flirting with him (and clearly doing a pretty bad job of it) and the guy _followed him. _In fact he followed him all the way across the room and started getting all close-and-personal in his face. And I was like _um, okay, that's creepy but whatever… not my problem, _right? But oh, no, he just had to take it further.

The guy, out of seemingly no where, leaned over and starts _kissing him. _No, seriously. You should have heard Misa's gasp, it was loud even over the pounding Hannah Montana in the background (sooo not the time for _Nobody's Perfect, _Hannah!) Matt clearly wasn't thrilled about it either, since his eyes got really wide and as soon as the kiss ended he looked ready to die. Oh, that and he kicked the guy in the crotch.

Insert inner happy dance here.

While perv-guy was hopping around and holding his crotch, much to the amusement of me and the group of giggling pre-teen girls hiding behind the plaid skirts. Matt must have been really traumatized, though, because he turned tails and literally sprinted into the men's bathroom.

Now, let me tell you, I am perfectly aware that following him into the bathroom was completely beyond anything I should have done. Completely out of bounds for a clearly-gay guy to do, right? Something I would never do, right?Apparently, no. I found my legs moving against my will to follow him, blatantly following him towards the bathroom. The only voluntary thing I was doing as I made my way there was to shove Perv-Guy over while he was bent over in pain, sending him falling into a middle-aged woman, who had no mercy and blatantly smacked him across the face. I didn't have the concentration to take pleasure in that, though, not then.

No. Right then I had full attention on striding into the bathroom chasing after Matt, who had disappeared into the inside of said restroom. Just as I was approaching the door - cautiously, of course, because my kind aren't always exactly welcome in such felicities if you catch my drift - two teen guys shot out of the room, laughing and whispering to one another as they quite rudely bumped past me. Any other time I would have paused for a moment to shove my boot up their skinny asses, but not then. Right then… well, I have no reason to repeat what I was doing. Instead, of kicking them I kicked open the door, ignoring the way it slammed against the bathroom wall.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It, quite frankly, smelled like vomit, which would more than likely be why the two boys made a run for it.

The second thing I noticed was Matt.

I freely admit it - as soon as I saw him, my heart dropped. He had left the stall door hanging open, bent awkwardly over the toilet bowl having just vomited into said toilet. He was shaking just slightly, obviously in a state of shock, suddenly looking very frail and small where he sat, hands pressed to the edge of the toilet seat. He wasn't heaving anymore, which was good, but instead he was simply sitting there, trembling, as if he was afraid to move from said spot.

I started to take a few steps forward almost involuntarily when he suddenly turned around, looking up at me with wide, bleary eyes, barely visible behind his goggles. I knew instantly by the way he looked at me that he wasn't freaking out just because some guy kissed him, because he was literally having some sort of mini-breakdown on the bathroom floor. Yet somehow, the only word that came coherent in my mind in that split second of eye-contact was _beautiful_.

"What do you want?" he croaked out after a moment of silence, resurrecting me from my odd train of thought. He was looking slightly defensive now, though not altogether repellant. Or maybe he did, but I ignored it either way, taking another step forward.

"You alright?" I heard myself ask, bending down and balancing on the balls of my feet, looking quite a bit like L sat as I did, really just not wanting to get on the bathroom floor in my leather pants.

Matt looked at me with slight bewilderment, as if he couldn't believe I would actually give a shit, before glaring at me and replying, "I just _vomited, _got _sexually harassed, _and had one of my worst memories come back into my head thanks to some random jackass I don't even know. Do I _look _like I'm okay?" His voice was snappish, at the end of it's wits, as if he was simply looking for anyone, _anything, _to attack in his frustration. I understood the feeling perfectly.

Slowly, he stood up, his entire body tensed. I quickly got up after him, standing semi-hesitantly in front of him. It was awkward standing there, especially since he made no move to go past me, instead just staring at me, as if questioning my existence.

"Well, you're being ridiculous," someone blurted. Oh, wait, fuck, that was my voice. Matt's eyes widened in surprise from behind the goggles, clearly not expecting that response. But the words had leapt to my mouth, and like hell if I wasn't going to finish. "All the guy did was kiss you, Nice-Ass, you don't have to freak out completely."

Matt's glare unexpectedly took a turn as those words escaped my lips, though, instead collapsing into a bitter kind of dejectedness. "You don't understand," he whispered raspily, shoving his hands into his pockets somberly. "Don't try to."

I found myself freezing up as he brushed passed me, heading towards the sinks. Just as the last bit of fabric from his shirt brushed past my fingertips, though, I spun around, grabbing his wrist. He yelped in surprise as I jerked him back, sending him stumbling half-way against me, head spinning around to stare at me with wide eyes behind slightly-crooked goggles. I caught him around the waist with one arm, keeping the other hand clutching his wrist a bit too tightly.

I never planned on doing anything then. By walking after him into the men's restroom I never once intended on making any sort of move, or of farther teasing/stalking/flirting-with him. I had come after him solely in attempt to be nice or maybe comfort or help him (or rather because my legs moved on their own, but that had been the intention I assume).

But in that moment it didn't matter. All rational thoughts left my mind, replaced only by the helpless kind of look on his face and the random possessiveness that was screaming in the back of my mind. I didn't hear the warning bells going off in the back of my mind as I released his wrist, grip still around his waist to hold him still as my hand slid up his chest, stopping to caress his cheek gently.

"U-uh?" Matt managed brilliantly, lips trembling just slightly. His gaze was screaming _no, _but his body made no move to stop me as I leaned forward. What expression I had on my face right then I hadn't a clue.

"You shouldn't take things so seriously," I whispered, tangling my fingers in his hair. Before he had the chance to register what I had spoken I found myself leaning forward, closing the distance between our lips just gently, careful not to be too rough or forceful. I'm not really sure why I was so gentle or careful, since I hardly knew the kid, but the result was electrifying.

For a second, I forgot he was a stranger. I forgot the lust, or whatever it was I felt for him, wasn't mutual. Just a tiny split second, and all thoughts in my mind were irrational, focused on the moment alone. Focused on the softness of his lips as mine moved against his, a chaste but blissful contact. He neither kissed me back nor shoved me away, frozen yet warm against my lips, my hands still firmly placed against him, one tangled in his hair and one firmly around his waist. His own arms were still shoved awkwardly in his pockets. I wasn't once tempted to go any further, the moment seeming like an hour in my mind, and….

Then I remembered what I was doing, and I moved away, feeling an irrational blush leap to my cheeks despite myself. He stared at me with wide orange-tinted eyes, hand flying from his pocket automatically to rest on his lips. Matt was blushing too, major in fact, cheeks burning a rosy pink that made his few almost-unnoticeable freckles stand out in an extremely adorable fashion.

After a moment of bewildered silence, Matt scowled at me. "Why the fuck did you kiss me?" he cried, voice shrill and disbelieving, hand still placed lightly on his lips.

I chuckle and lean forward, so close that our noses are nearly brushing, and I feel a Cheshire-cat grin spread across my features as I retort, "Because I wanted to, Nice-Ass."Matt gasped, grabbing my shoulder roughly and throwing me backwards. He didn't shove me very hard, so all it accomplished was for me to take a few stumbling steps backwards, but it was enough for him to bolt around me and make a break for it, escaping out the bathroom doors with an audible mutter of 'pervert' under his breath.

Really, by the horrified way he reacted to it, I should have felt sad, or at least a little disappointed that he seemed so humiliated by my actions. But instead, the only thoughts that entered my mind were _he looks so cute when he blushes._

Guess I'm a pervert after all.

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**A/N: Oh how I loved writing this chapter~ oyes. This one's a teeny bit short, but at least there was a kiss, right? XD of course, Matt didn't exactly react the way you might have hoped, fan girls, but don't worry - this **_**is **_**a romance (right?) Anyway I hope you laughed as hard as I did (inwardly or outwardly regardless) when Atreyl and I were planning this story XDD **


	5. Games, Chocolate, & KittyCat Shit

**Warning: Matt has a pottymouth... And we thought Mello was bad. XD**

**A/N: (holli): This chapter was so fun to write... XDD for me at least~!**

**Matt's POV**

Crazy old lady with the shitting cat. What's her problem, anyway?

I woke up the next morning with a headache and with my fluffy duck slippers(Shut. Up.) right next to a pile of cat leavings. Muttering to myself, I stumbled out of bed.

It was just my luck that I had a day off today. God knows how awkward it would have been if I saw Mello again at Justice... Besides, who did he think he was? Stealing my third kiss (yeah, you can stop laughing now). He even had the audacity to call me Nice-Ass. I mean, I have a name, you know? It's MATT. My name is MATT, and you shall call me MATT, not Nice-Ass. Not that he'd ever listen anyway, the bitch.

"Kisses are supposed to be all romantic and fluffy," I huffed, "with rainbows and hearts and rainbow unicorns with sparkly hearts. Not in some public restroom after I just puked." I had to hit my coffeemaker a few times before it finally started to make my cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter, I blearily looked out side through the small window. Thank god Mrs. Pavalkovich had the decency not to have her cat shit in my kitchen.

The coffeemaker went ding, which naturally startled me. I made a startled noise, jerking my arm and proceeding to burn my elbow on the hot metal of my coffeemaker. Growling, I grabbed the cup of coffee and almost slammed it back down when it burned my hand.

See what perverted stalkers kissing me does to my brain?

Sucking on my finger, I got out some bread and peanut butter, using my other hand to spread it on the bread. Once I finished, I glanced at my cup of coffee with narrowed eyes. I cautiously picked it up, and sighed with relief when it didn't burn my hand.

Chewing on my sandwich, I made a face when I realized the peanut butter didn't taste as good. I was still tasting the nicotine from the emo guy from the day before. That, and an overwhelming taste of chocolate. It was probably from Mello's mouth(that sounds weird). I don't think I saw him eating chocolate much, but then again, most of the time I saw him at work and we weren't allowed food in there. Just by how much he tasted like chocolate I could tell he ate it daily, or even hourly.

So what does that make him now? A chocolate loving-perverted stalker that is attracted by my ass. Tch. Only Mello can pull that off. Hell, no other he/she on this planet can probably be a chocolate loving-perverted stalker that is attracted to my ass and _still _be sexy. And what was the deal-

Wait.

_Sexy?_

"Oh, no," I moaned in the midst of swallowing coffee. Of course, the warm liquid dribbled out of my mouth and spilled down into my shirt, successfully soaking my chin, neck, and part of my chest. I ignored it, still stuck on the fact that _I _had referred to Mello as _sexy. _

I might as well have admitted I liked it when he kissed me.

Shit.

This time, I slammed my head down on the table. The last bit of coffee I had spilled out when the cup tipped over, dampening my hair. Great. Why can't I have a normal, regular morning without Mello's se-perverted smirk popping up in my head?

I hauled myself up, nearly threw my mug into the sink, and trudged off to the bathroom to take a shower. Halfway through, when I was rinsing my hair, I realized something. "The new Final Fantasy game is out!" I shouted to myself, jumping up. Unfortunately, my foot slipped. As I came crashing down, I grabbed onto the curtain in an attempt to be steadied. The shower curtain just gave away and went down with me.

Five minutes and a bruise later, I was slipping my shirt over my head and grabbing my wallet and keys. Smiling like an idiot, I walked out of my apartment and to my car, ready for an all-night gaming marathon until I finished the new game. Yeah, regardless of the fact I had work tomorrow...

I stopped in front of my car. Well, there was a convenience store(it sold games, how awesome is that?) just two blocks away. I could walk. Besides that I hated exercising, I had to at least be a little more fitter when Mello starts a fight again. Shrugging, I pocketed my keys and began to walk in the direction of store.

"My name is Matt," I sang softly, "I like games. But of course, that's not my real name." I remember seeing that Cloud song on YouTube... _"Because I am Cloud, my hair defies all gravity. And I can't have too much potions, or I might get cavities!" _Ever since then, I'd been sort of obsessed over it, and was lame enough to make my own version. "Because I am Matt, I can pull off this outfit. No one else can without looking like they've been attacked by a rabbit!" Yeah, it's lame. Shut up.

I finally reached the convenience store after receiving many weird looks from people I walked by. I entered the store, immediately becoming nostalgic. Ah, I love seeing those games displayed on the shelves. I could just sit in there all day, picking from a game to another.

The new Final Fantasy was there, sitting proudly on top of a pile of many other games. Almost frothing, I grabbed and made my way to the counter, where a bored looking girl was standing. I handed her the game, eyeing the way she perked up at the sight of me.

"Hello, sir, are you having a good day?" She grinned brightly, scanning the item and finding a plastic bag to put it in.

"So far, no," I admitted.

"Oh, that's too bad. Do you want to talk about it?" She leaned forward just slightly.

And without thinking, I blurted, "I'm gay." Not that I am, of course! I just saw Mello doing it and wondered if it would work for me as well as it did for him.

The girl shrank back, meekly handing me the bag. "Sorry. Have a good one."

She was pretty, to be honest. Blonde hair cut down to her chin with some bangs and aqua blue eyes. Almost the spitting image of Mel-

Anyway, I might have gone out with her if she didn't have that pack of cigarettes in her pocket. Seriously, was everyone smoking these days?

I gave her a tiny, sheepish smile, grabbing my game and exiting the store.

All the way home, I was feeling like someone was watching me or following me or something, a feeling I usually got at work. And that was where Mello was, so. I glanced back behind my shoulder. There was no Mello there, only a blonde chick that was glaring at random pedestrians passing her. She was wearing leather, too-

Waaaait a minute.

I narrowed my eyes, sharply turning back and quickening my pace. I could deal with his harassing(maybe I should file a complaint about sexual harassment...) at work, but does he _have _to go as far as following me home?

**Mello's POV**

It's not every day I go to the convenience store. Usually, I'm way too busy to be going out, either working (at Justice, as of current) or studying my brains out, which is what I really should have been doing right then, since with all the Justice drama I hadn't been studying very much the other two days I had been working there. Today was my day off - I should be studying, studying to become the best (which was hard work, by the way).

But the thing was, I couldn't think straight today. It was pathetic. Here I was with a huge textbook in front of me, one I had to read at least half way in order to understand what the hell Mr. Patsonverg was talking about at my University classes tomorrow, but I couldn't even try. All the words were becoming just meaningless blobs in my mind, replaced with bubbles of random what were those thoughts about?

Matt and chocolate, that's what. Augh.

Cursing under my breath I slammed my fist down on my old table top, ignoring it's defiant creak in response. I'd eaten my last chocolate bar this morning, and even the mini-fridge was empty despite usually being completely full. I supposed I'd been so caught up with everything else that I hadn't even thought of my chocolate supply. Which is a pretty dramatic feat for me, who tends to think about chocolate almost 24/7.

Unfortunately, who was on my mind was Nice-Ass. And it was getting pretty irritating - I felt like one of those foolish little schoolgirls with a crush on that little boy across the classroom; said little boy who still thought I had cooties and ran from me whenever I came near. I groaned, realizing just how accurate that comparison was as I scooted back in my chair, irritation washing through me. "Screw this," I grumbled, getting to my feet and snatching my coat off the rack angrily as I made my way towards my door, ignoring the way it proceeded to clatter to the floor. I'd pick it up later, probably. Right now, I needed chocolate.

Chocolate.

I had to smile a little at the thought of having chocolate again, my fingers unconsciously patting at my pants in search of said treat (shut up) despite knowing I would come up empty.

Luckily I was walking distance from the convenience store, so I strode past my motorcycle and headed towards it on foot. I liked walking everywhere I was able to, since it's a form of exercise and I kind of need that if I'm going to keep my form with all the chocolate I eat. L always tells me I don't need to, since I'm so smart and my 'brain workout' will keep the weight off, but I don't really know if I believe him. Besides, even if it was, I don't want to become all gangly like L is - he's not fat, but he's not exactly perfect form either. Have you seen that back?

The point was, I walked to the damn convenience store. Said store had what most would call _everything. _It was weird, because it was just a one-stop store, nothing like Wal-Mart or anything, yet it tended to have anything you would really ever need. They even had video games, which was kind of weird, but I never questioned it since I don't really care for the things.

Still, they happened to be the first thing that really caught my eye when I strolled into the store that day, the door clanking behind me. _I wonder what game Matt was playing that day we had the fight…? _

Wait. Why did I even care?I scoffed and shook my head, inwardly scolding myself. I didn't even like Matt. I didn't. Kissing him was just a momentary thing, just a little whimsical turn of events from some weird trigger in my mind. Just a reflex. Didn't mean anything at all.

Keeping that lie lodged into my head I headed for the chocolate section, right near the counter. _Ahh… chocolate section. _I smiled to myself as I reached it, almost absent-mindedly. Hershey, Dove, Wonka, Godiva… so many choices. But that didn't really matter, since I shoved a few of almost every possible choice into my little shopping-basket-thing until it was almost piled high with the stuff. Satisfied with the amount (it would last me at least this week) I nodded and turned on my heel to go towards the counter…

…and stopped.

It was just my luck, wasn't it, that _he _would go to this convenience store? On this day. At this time. Yes, Matt was sitting there, getting hit-on by miss-blondie at the counter (who was noticeably donning almost the same haircut I was, which was weird). I didn't catch what they were saying, too caught up in my own thoughts. _He comes here? That's weird - usually only locals come around here… does he live around here? I wonder where he lives… maybe I could just…_

No. No. No. I could not follow him. That was unacceptable. _Unacceptable. _

_No._

When Matt turned and left the store, I followed, leaving the chocolate sitting on the counter without a second thought on the matter.

I don't really know what compelled me. Curiosity was really the only thing keeping me following him as he strolled down the street - I just wanted to know where he lived. It wasn't like I was going to stalk him at his living place or anything - like I said, _pure _curiosity. Which, admittedly, equaled stalking him until he got home, but it wasn't as if I was going to do anything weird. Completely innocent means.

With that in mind I followed a bit too closely in order not to loose him in the growing crowd of the streets, people rushing past me in a haste to get to work. Dodging them I quickly followed Matt, aware in the back of my mind I was following a bit too close behind. Before I could correct myself, though, some random guy bumped roughly into my shoulder, practically shoving me over in the process. That would have been understandable, I guess, since he was obviously in a hurry like everyone else, except he muttered, "move it, faggot," under his breath.

Son of a bitch.

I wasted no time jutting my leg out to trip him though, smiling to myself as he fell pleasantly, face first, into a puddle in a very expensive-looking suit. Serves him right.

My smile vanished, though, when I looked up to see that Matt was suddenly practically sprinting down the street in a different direction than he was before - if I hadn't looked up right then, I probably wouldn't have noticed. Despite any common sense that I had assumed all this time that I contained I hurried after him, keeping him in sight until he stopped, panting slightly as was clear even from the great distance, at a large apartment complex.

I couldn't help but smile watching him fumble for his keys in his pocket, making great haste to open the door and hurry into the complex's lobby. I smiled and followed him casually, ignoring the odd stare I got from a Hispanic woman standing in the doorway as I followed, trying on instinct to keep my footsteps soft. He chose, oddly I thought, to take the stairs (unless there wasn't an elevator here, which was possible) to the third floor, growing faster and faster as he went up and occasionally glancing behind him. I was careful to stay one flight below at all times, however, so I don't think he saw me when he did this, though I could see him pretty easily.

We stopped at the third floor and he slipped through, heading down the hallway. I followed after him, peeking at everything curiously. It really was a pleasant-ish kind of place, though pretty cheap; by the way the doors were separated, the apartments weren't altogether large, though mine was tiny as hell so I really shouldn't be talking.

He seemed to have not seen me after all or think that I was no longer following him, since I was keeping a pretty good distance, so I was quite pleased with myself. Smiling a little, I watched the way he walked, his swagger laid back and carefree, boyishly messy red hair bouncing with every step he took. I followed until he reached what I assumed was his door, pausing and seeming to reach for his keys until I-

"SHIT!"

No, literally. One second I was following Matt, and the next I had stepped in a pile of animal shit. Cat shit, probably. Whatever it was from, though, it was on my new leather boots now.

Forgetting momentarily where I was I cursed loudly under my breath, trying in vain to scrape said material off of the bottom of my boots but to no avail. "Fuck… fucking shit… these are new boots!" I growled, glaring at the black-turned-brown soles of my shoes.

Suddenly, I realized that Matt had halted in his pace, and I barely managed to stop and take a few hasty steps backwards in response. It was too late to make a break for it though, unfortunately because he spun around, a look of fury on his expression. His face was slightly reddened and his nose scrunched up angrily, a scowl placed on his lips, eyes narrowed into slits behind his goggles. His hands were at his sides, one clutched into a stiff fist and the other clutching his new game like it was the end of the world, the fit of rage playing across his expressions even through the goggles and his scruffy red bangs that partially covered his face.

Frankly, it was more adorable than frightening.

"What the hell!" Matt cried, throwing me an infuriated look. "I _knew _it!" I stared at him as he threw a mini-muttering fit, punching his door in the process (probably accidentally) only to have it swing open. I stifled a laugh despite myself as he stared bewilderedly at it, apparently having forgotten opening it, before swinging around to glare at me with what I assumed was suppose to be a death glare, but really only looked even more adorable. "Why the hell are you following me!"

I scowled at him instinctually, going defensive immediately on instinct. "What makes you think I'm following you?" I quipped irately, even though I _was _following him.

Matt blinked for a second, frowning deeply, as if he doubted himself for a moment. Then he narrowed his eyes again, pointing angrily at the door. "You're _right behind me, _I saw you like seven times on my way back, and this is right outside _my apartment,_" he reminded me angrily, voice growing louder with every accusing word.

For a moment I let myself be distracted by his room, peeking in despite his scoff in response. From what I could see, he kept it very nice, though I had to grin at the display of game systems sitting on the floor of what I knew must be his living room. _Figures._

I chuckled involuntarily. "Wow, your place is-"Matt interrupted me out of no where, sending me a glare that, admittedly, startled me a little when I looked up. "A dump, I know. So get out and…" he paused for a second to throw his arms up in the air melodramatically. "Stop stalking me!"

I narrow my eyes at him, slapping his outstretched hands away instinctively. "I was _going _to say 'nicer than mine', you ass-hat, I'm not that rude," I growled, and almost just for fun I took a threatening step forward, putting on my best dominating smirk and narrowing my eyes, coming so close to him that our chests brushed together for a moment, my hand reaching forward to prod a finger into the center of his chest, not loosing eye contact the entire time as I exerted my half-an-inch over him to peer down into his eyes. "Oh…And don't interrupt me," I added darkly, narrowing my eyes further.

To my surprise, though, Matt only swatted my hand away, standing a bit taller as he glared at me, shoving me backwards by the shoulders. "I'll interrupt you all I want!" he shouted, "Don't boss me around, you asshole! First you go around being a pervert, then you _kiss me _in the _men's restroom, _and now you follow me home, and you think you have any sort of authority over me! What kind of asshole are you!"

I stared, a bit stunned by his reaction for a moment. _Wow. He really stood up to me. _For one reason or another, his reaction was almost enticing, something that didn't happen often. IT caught me off guard, to say the least, but I didn't let it show, keeping my composure enough to smirk and say, "A sexy one."

Matt opened his mouth, obviously to say something in flustered retort judging by the expression on his face, but he never got the chance. Why, you ask?Because the most evil looking old woman came creeping out of her apartment at that moment, a fat cat on her heels and a carton of eggs in her arms, shouting in a high pitched, wheezy voice, "What is the meaning of all this ruckus, Matthew!"

Matt immediately spun around upon her screeching's arrival, a look of utmost annoyance on his face; he looked torn between continuing to attack me and running from this old woman. I couldn't help but wonder why - sure, the lady was old and wrinkly, and she had this squinty, evil kind of look in her eyes, but she was just an old lady, right?Then I saw that _cat. _And as I saw said cat, I watched as it squatted and promptly shit on the floor of the apartment. And I realized - _it was the same shit that was on my shoe._

"U-uh…" was all Matt managed to brilliantly utter before old-lady-woman went on her little high-pitched, wheezing rant, stopping every few seconds to the a breather. All the while, I couldn't help the annoyed thoughts that crossed my mind in the process.

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW…_" god she's loud for an old woman _"…THAT I WILL NOT TOLERATE…" _I mean really… _"THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR OU OF YOU…" _What is she, his mother? _"…FIRST YOU DENY ME IN MY TIME OF NEED…" _Grandmother might be more likely… _"…THEN YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE TO WAKE ME AND SNUCKUMPUSS…" _Snuckumpuss! _I had to fight a laugh at that one. "FROM OUR DAILY NAP WITH YOUR RUCKUSS!" _Wow, she said ruckus twice. Who even says that? _"I SHOULD CALL ATHOURITIES!"

I had three thoughts at this point. One, Matt looked adorable when he was flustered, his face all pinched up and pinkened, obviously not sure what to do at this point. Two, what was this old woman doing sleeping with a carton of eggs? Did she sleep _with them, _or did she just retrieve them from her fridge? Does she _always _walk around with eggs? And three, that cat was staring at me. Creepy, fat old shitter.

"He's not my friend," Matt finally uttered, a pout on his face that was both cute and annoying. Of all of the bullshit she just said, _that's _all he got out of it? Well, he was fucking hopeless.

Because it was clear he was going to do nothing and this woman was annoying me highly, I shot the woman a death glare. "Look, lady," I growled, spinning on my heel with one hand on my hips, narrowing my eyes at her. She looked up at me with a puzzled expression, as if she had forgotten I was there; her cat also hissed at me, but I ignored it. "I don't know who you think you are, but please, just _shut up. _Nobody wants to hear your stupid rant. You have no right to just go around bullshitting about keeping the peace when you let your goddamn fucking cat shit all over the frikkin' apartment. Do you see my shoes!" I cried, lifting one boot for emphasis, as exposing the sole of my shoe and the feces I exposed. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Apparently, nothing. The only response I got from the wonderful woman, god bless her, was a nasty glare and an egg to the face.

**Matt's POV**

Fuckin' creep! I didn't think he'd actually follow me as far. I thought that I lost him on the way back home, but apparently the sneaky bastard was smarter than I thought. So when I saw him step in the pile of cat poop, I inwardly whooped, because he certainly deserved it. Creepy stalker. Who evidently cares a whole lot about his new boots. Jeez, couldn't he buy new ones again or something?

I tried to act angry, even though I wanted to double over laughing. I wasn't really that angry-just pissed- at him, at least until he told me not to interrupt him.

That pushed my buttons too far(...heh) and I snapped, "I'll interrupt you all I want! Don't boss me around, you asshole! First you go around being a pervert, then you _kiss me _in the _men's restroom, _and now you follow me home, and you think you have any sort of authority over me! What kind of asshole are you!" The last sentence slipped past my mouth without me really thinking about it.

I mean, come on. This was _Mello. _God knows what kind of perverted reply he had coming?

"A sexy one," he said smugly with a smirk. SEE?

Makes me want to tear my hair out. I opened my mouth to tell him that, but then a familiar old lady came hobbling down the hall, with slitted eyes and a fat cat in her arms. Oh, god. Please no.

"What is the meaning of all this ruckus, Matthew!" Mrs. Pavlakovich screeched.

I was about to tell her "That's _not _my name!" because, really, everyone seemed to be getting my name mistaken these days-ahem, _Mello._

A carton of eggs became visible as the old lady set Snuckumpuss, her cat, down on the floor. The disgusting animal proceeded to use the wooden floorboards as a toilet, clearly having no care whether or not he was in public.

Anyway, right, the carton of eggs. I wanted to shrink back into my apartment and be by my peaceful self and not get into a fight. When Mrs. Pavlakovich was disturbed while she was doing her egg-painting ritual(though it was nowhere near Easter), she had a habit of bringing said eggs and then chucking them at whoever was disturbing her(like that one time when Misa introduced me to one of her friends... Sorry Misa and Near).

In conclusion, I couldn't get away. No, not with the hag starting to rant and getting ready to throw the eggs. Her eyes were still squinty, and I couldn't tell whether she was watching me or Mello, who was looking a little bewildered. Soon, Mrs. Pavlakovich stopped talking, now taking many deep breaths. Her chest heaved up and down, and I could only marvel that she wasn't dying of a heart attack already.

"He's not my friend," I said meekly, my cheeks flaming. I sneaked a glance at Mello, getting irked that he was looking like one of those old ladies(_normal _old ladies) that lived across the street, when they thought I was cute.

As Mello began to retort at Mrs. Pavlakovich, I shrank back, trying to blend in with the door. Mello ended his speech with a, "What do you have to say for yourself?" I had to admit, he told her off well. Very nice eloquence.

Then, what with Mrs. Pavlakovich deserving to live in a mental hospital and all(or at least a nursing home, _jeez_), the old lady whipped out one of her eggs and threw it at my personal stalker. It hit Mello square in the face, and while I had to applaud the excellent aiming, Mello was glaring and looking about to castrate Mrs. Pavlakovich. I couldn't blame him. Especially when there was egg yolk running down his face, some sliding down his leather vest, too.

She turned to me next, obviously intending to egg me, too. I yelped and duck just in time, avoiding the egg as it sailed past my head. Yolk and albumen exploded against my door, starting to slide down while the remains of the egg shell fell to the floor. Damn her! Now I had to clean that up instead of jumping right into Final Fantasy. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't a lazy slob who spent all of his time video-gaming and never taking a shower. I'm a little obsessive-compulsive, so while the 'lazy' part is right, I _do _clean my apartment. And I shower regularly, thank you very much.

There was a yell down the hall. "Hey! You still need to pay your rent!"

Mrs. Pavlakovich turned around, screaming back, "I'll get it to you by tomorrow!"

"No! I've had enough of your delaying! You're paying now or you will be evicted!" I guess the landlord got fed up with her, too.

Mrs. Pavlakovich hissed in the direction of the man and turned. "Look what happens when you refuse to help me, Matthew," she said darkly. The effect was ruined when her cat pooped on her sandals. "SNUCKUMPUSS!" she screeched. "How could you!"

"You better get back here, old woman!" The landlord continued to shout.

As Mrs. Pavlakovich screamed at her cat, I ducked back in my room and slammed the door shut. Breathing a sigh of relief, I leaned against a door for a moment longer, my eyes closed tiredly. I wanted so badly to disappear from this universe to another one where I lived in some big mansion and I didn't need to work to pay anything. Mello could be Matt-jail(take that, bitch!) and he can only get out when he buys me at least ten new games. Mmm, and maybe he could wear a short minidress. I've always wanted to see how he looked in drag-

Ahem. To interrupt that train of thought which I_ did not mean to think, _there would also be bacon. Ohhhhh, yes. Bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. I could have a bacon room built all to myself. And I'd put it in my backyard, beside my big pool. (insert wistful sigh)

I opened my eyes, slowly coming down from la-la-land. Then I choked on spit.

"You!" I said angrily, jabbing a finger at Mello, who was looking at me with an amused expression. "How did you get in here?"

Mello snorted. "I walked in here, of course. What did you think I do? Use my magical teleporting powers?" he said sarcastically, wiggling his fingers. The egg was mostly gone from his face, and his arm was shiny, which meant he must have wiped it off. But, some of the egg did go down his vest...

I prayed that he wouldn't ask to-

"I'm using your bathroom."

-use my bathroom. Damn it. I've such rotten luck. I blame my non-existent dad.

I opened my mouth to tell him no-seriously, did you think I was going to let him use my bathroom? Especially since the kiss from yesterday? Even if I _might _have enjoyed it? (I admit it, happy? I'm blushing now... Screw you!) But...he did have egg down his vest. And he _did _have cat shit on his boots. Wait.

"Hey!" I cried, pointing to his boots now. "You can't just waltz in here with those!"

Alas, Mello was already off exploring my bedroom. What. The. Heck.

"Yo!" I called, running after him. "Stop! You're getting shit all over my floor!"

He didn't answer, unfortunately, and strode in the bathroom. I stuck my foot out before he could close the door, effectively stopping him. He glared at me through the small crack. "What?" he said, irritated.

"What's wrong with you!" I fumed. "First you stalk me at work, then you kiss me, then you follow me home, and now you're using my bathroom!" I threw my hands up in the air for dramatic effect, but only lost my balance. I stumbled back, my foot becoming unstuck.

Mello closed the bathroom door and I heard him lock it. "When I come out, there better be chocolate!" he told me.

"Fuck off," I oh-so smartly replied. There was a laugh, followed by the sink being turned on. Muttering to myself about demanding perverts, I went back to the living room, tossing my Final Fantasy game on the couch. Fantastic. Thanks to Mr. Jackass over there, I no longer was excited about my new game, which was sad, really. If I didn't have motivation to do something, then it wouldn't get done. And the game cost me thirty bucks, so I had the right to complain.

I rummaged around the cupboard under the sink. I had to bend down, which caused my poor back to crack a few bones. I began to take out some cleaning supplies. God knows I'll be needing a lot of OxiClean to get the stain out of the wooden floor, considering how many times Snuckumpuss shit around my apartment. Again, I say damn you, old woman.

Someone was snickering.

Ugh. "What do you want?" I said hotly, straightening and whirling around. Shirtless(or vestless?)-Mello was standing there, grinning.

"Your ass," he said bluntly.

My cheeks went red. Gah! Fuck him! I know he was gay and all-I wasn't homophobic-but did he really have the right to walk around naked waist-up and declaring that he wanted my ass? Jesus.

Without waiting for a snarky reply from me, he said, "I thought I told you that I wanted chocolate."

I gave him a disbelieving look. Really? Was he _really _going to order me around in my own house? I was fully intending to say something witty, but all that came out was a garbled "Nnyeah." I'm pathetic, aren't I? Practically drooling over Mello's bare torso.

Shit. I think I'm starting to question my sexuality.

Mello was serious. "Well?" he demanded. "Are you just going to stand there like an idiot or are you going to at least tell me where the fucking chocolate is?"

Ouch. I adamantly deny his accusations of my being an idiot. I was probably just as smart as him, maybe even smarter-and that was something to be proud about. I was a genius already without having to study, so what would happen if I _did _try?

"I'm not an idiot," I decided to tell him.

Mello ignored me, already searching through the pantry. My eye twitched in irritation, but I let him do so. Finally he leaned back, giving me an incredulous look. "Bread, peanut butter, and ramen," he said to me. Yes, Mello, I think I'd be aware of what I have in my pantry. "Is that all you eat?"

"Well maybe it is," I shot back. "I have no goddamn chocolate so I would very much appreciate it if you put your clothes back on and get out."

Mello exhaled loudly. "My, my, Matt, you're sounding like we just did the dirty deed," he teased.

My face betrayed me as it once again turned as red as my hair.

"Besides, my vest needs to be cleaned," Mello continued, shutting the pantry and turning to look at me expectantly.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Then go to a laundromat and wash it there," I said. Anything to get him out of here.

"A washing machine?" Mello burst out. "Are you fucking crazy? It'll ruin the leather! You need to treat it carefully or otherwise it will-"

"Okay!" I cut in, again disobeying his rule about not interrupting him. "I get it. Leather in washing machine equals no-no." I massaged my temples. "Fuck. I guess you can stay a while," I finally said. I quickly added, "Only until your vest is clean, though! Then you've gotta leave!"

The last part had no effect on him. He was already grinning triumphantly.

Damn. Him.

**A/N: Mello's such a stalker, huh? XD You've gotta love him, though, right? Right. So... do you all love Snuckumpuss as much as i do? XDDD**


	6. In The Housemaid's House

**Mello's POV**

I really wouldn't classify myself as a freeloader. Actually, I've always kind of despised people who did such things, since it placed them in a position of being a lazy dumbass, which I am most certainly not.

Yet I had found myself in this wonderful placement of being inside Matt's apartment, chilling on his couch and eating ramen (which was surprisingly pretty damn good, though no where near chocolate on my flavor-appreciation level) while said Nice-Ass was in the kitchen, cleaning my leather by hand.

I'm not really sure how I convinced him to do that, but now that I had, it was highly amusing. Half way through my bowl of ramen I could hear Matt muttering from the other room about how much he hated me and the entire situation, something about 'dumbass perverted he-she's' or something, which I can next to guarantee was about me while he attempted to scrub the egg stains out of my vest, the only thing defending his clothes from the water being the oversized 'Kiss the Cook' apron.

I had to admit, with that whole adorable situation, I _really _wanted to follow those instructions. (I didn't, though, obviously.)

When my ramen was finished I sashayed my way into the kitchen. I hadn't thought he noticed me when I walked in, but while I dropped the empty ramen bowl into the trashcan I noticed him attempt-subtly eyeing my bare chest in the corner of his eye, the scrubbing of the vest slowing to a snail's pace as he did this. Quite pleased (and amused) I smirked at him and chirped, "Who's the pervert now, sir stares-a lot?"

Matt gasped in surprise, green eyes snapping wider, as if he hadn't even noticed _himself _staring at me until I mentioned it. I couldn't help but chuckle a little as his head swiveled away and went back to hastily scrubbing at the stained shirt, a blush spreading over his face and exposing those damn-cute freckles again. When I didn't (couldn't) stop laughing as I sashayed out, he called, "You're a bastard."

"No I'm not!" I argued loudly, fighting to keep a straight face as he turned to glare at me, an obvious argument in his eyes. I added, slyly, "My mother was married when she had me." (*)

"Smartass," Matt muttered, turning away and going back to washing my vest, pulling said article of clothing out of the sink to dry again. I smiled as I watched him shuffle across the room to hang it to dry in the bathroom, a half-irritated frown on his face. Unable to help myself I strolled after him, convincing myself mentally that I wanted to make sure he had done his job correctly (even though I knew he had and really just wanted to farther stalk him).

He either didn't notice me follow him into the room or simply was done worrying about it for the moment, because he ignored me completely as he put the vest on the rack. Seemingly accidentally, a tiny, satisfied smile tugged on his lips as he did this, hands resting on his hips as he surveyed his work. I grinned widely, seeing the opportunity arising, and slipped forwards as quietly as possible, snaking my arms around his waist. He froze up immediately, and stayed ridgid as I rested my chin on his shoulder. "You make quite the good little house-wife, Matty," I purred into his ear, chuckling a little under my breath as a blush flared on his cheeks.

He hesitated for a split second, a split second that I might have missed had our proximity not been so close, before he slapped my hands away and jumped forward a few steps, spinning on his heel to glare at me. This I expected, but what I hadn't expected from him was that a tiny little smile was tugging on his lips as he glowered at me; as if it were some giant inside joke instead of a creepy guy flirting with you. Somehow, at this my smirk melted into a genuine smile.

"You're such an idiot," Matt growled, rolling his eyes and stalking away. Before he exited, though, he paused and looked over his shoulder. It was his turn to smirk as he added, "And I may be a better house-wife, but you're still the most feminine-looking."

I had the urge to scowl at him for this, but I wouldn't let him win - instead I only let a grin slide across my face, one hand sliding down my waist and thighs in a sultry manner. "Oh really?" I inquired in faux-innocence. "You think so?" When he nodded blankly, a kind of stupid look on his face (which was also adorable, by the way) I smirked. "Well, feminine or not, I'd still top your pansy ass."

Matt gasped in irritation, blushing all over again, this time even redder than before, a color that envied his hair. "A-as if!" he stammered dumbly, turning around to storm out, but then pausing and yelling over his shoulder flustered, "I'm going out! You can stay here till your stupid vest dries, but then you're _out, _get it? Out!"

I didn't have time to make a clever reply, even if I had one, before he went racing out of the apartment, clearly flustered. I was almost disappointed he hadn't made some sort of argument, and a bit surprised by it - I had taken him for more of a fighter…

_Maybe I missed something. _

Shrugging, I sashayed out of the bathroom. As soon as I discovered that the redhead had, indeed, stormed out of the apartment in the haste and raced off in his sexy-as-hell sports-car (hey, it's true, it is) an overwhelming sense of boredom settled over me. "Where'd he go, anyway….?" I wondered aloud, plopping back on the couch and slouching against the cushion. Surprisingly, it was a pretty comfortable couch… the couch in my apartment is so ratty you can't lay on it for more than a few minutes without getting super itchy everywhere, so I always either sit on the floor or on that old leather chair (which you can't really see the small-ass tv from too well, annoyingly enough). That didn't help my boredom in the slightest, though, so I groaned and got to my feet.

Somehow I found myself exploring the apartment, invading his privacy as much as I saw fit. I was amused to find that he had quite a few playing-consoles, and so many games shoved into that tv-cabinet I didn't even bother to count. He had a laptop sitting pleasantly on the chair, which I quickly snatched and went through - he had left it logged in, stupid Nice-Ass - and I was quite amused at his history. Runescape and countless other online games weren't a surprise, though the was kind of a shock (and highly, highly amusing, on that note) as was the extensive hours spent on You Tube (mostly Final Fantasy fan-vids, whatever that is).

I was disappointed that, despite thorough searching of the living room, there were no picture albums anywhere. Thus, no baby pictures for my reaping. There could have been some on his files, maybe, but I was surprisingly unable to access any of them (I guess he's pretty good with computers, since I'm alright at cracking passwords and such from experience and what not). However, I did find a diary full of various entries. I didn't read any of them, obviously - that's beyond invading privacy. That's like stealing underwear to sniff. It's just creepy.

His bathroom was pretty average, and I had just been in it, though while I searched through his bathroom cabinets just out of curiosity I discovered no hair-dye or hair-dye enhancing shampoos. I smirked. _So his hair colors natural… that's one way to figure it out._

Over all his house was pretty nicely kept, despite the fact that it was in a dump. He kept it nice. Unlike me, who (while I would like to) didn't even bother to do much cleaning at all. It wasn't because I was lazy or hated cleaning or anything stupid like that, in fact it was quite the opposite - I was simply too busy. I left early for work, then right after work went to the University, then usually went for a jog around the neighborhood, went shopping, or (like today) went somewhere fun. By the time I ever got home, I ended up passing out on the bed almost immediately.

The last room I wandered into was his bedroom. I smiled a bit at the sight of it. Final Fantasy posters with what looked close to being anime people on the front, a chest of drawers full of clothes (all of which I peeked at to discover that most of which had stripes or nerd slogans on the front and/or were skinny jeans) and on top sat a brush, full of strands of apple-red hair (would it be weird to use his hairbrush…?), a couple of cute little figurines (one of which looked like one of those Mario guys, only in green - Luigi or something?), some sort of poke'mon plush, his cell-phone (which he apparently left but I didn't touch, same thing with the diary for reason why), a couple of pictures, one of which was of him and some little girl at the park, her hugging all over him and him donning a dorky smile, a Pikachu t-shirt, the goggles, and - OMG - braces. The girl had his hair color - red - and a similar face structure… maybe his sister? The other picture was of a young woman with long, curly brown hair and a wide smile hugging a little redheaded girl, the same from before. His mom? I had to smile. _So there are family pictures after all._

It was around the time I put the pictures oh-so carefully back down on the chest-of-drawers, the sense that they were important bright in the back of my mind as I did so, that I realized how tired I was. It wasn't often I was prematurely so sleepy, especially since it was only early afternoon, but yet I felt myself starting to sag. I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night - I'd been studying nonstop till almost six A.M. in attempt to make up for lost time, and even once I'd crawled into bed I couldn't sleep. Much as I hated to admit it, last night all I could think about was Matt, the scene in the men's restroom replaying in my mind every time my eyes dared to flutter shut more than a few seconds. Frustrating as hell, but well, I've had worse dreams in my life.

I smiled a little as I strolled over to the bed. I could see which side of the bed Matt slept on easily, because the blankets were rumpled on the left side, the pillow on said left side donning a head-sized dent in it's plush surface.

Smile not fading from my lips I slipped under the blankets on the opposite side, curling into the humorously Mario-themed sheets and pulling the plush comforter up to my chin, eyes fluttering shut.

I had really only meant to lay down for a few seconds, just to catch a quick couple of seconds, but before I knew it darkness had enveloped me and I was fast into a deep sleep.

**Matt's POV**

Washing his vest by hand was a pain in the ass. I looked some stuff up on eHow(ah, such a helpful site) and read I needed freakin' olive oil. OLIVE OIL. To wash a freakin' vest. I did get some laughs, though. One of the articles I looked through on how to wash leather clothes told me that it was very important that I 'treat it like my own child.' Needless to say, I would have howled with laughter, but Mello had been in the room, and I certainly didn't need any more attention.

_He better fuckin' appreciate this_, I thought angrily as gently scrubbed at his leather. I surprised myself when I did well on washing it. I mean, the only kind of leather clothing I have are my gloves, and I never wash them... So, yeah. Anyway.

I was still working maybe some fifteen minutes later while the asshole named Mello lounged luxuriously on _my _couch, eating what was supposed to be _my _dinner, in _my _house. I muttered under my breath the whole time I washed his leather, then muttered some more when I saw that my fingers looked like prunes and shit.

Then Mello came in. You know, still naked waist-up. I couldn't help it. I slowed down, my eyes instinctively drawing themselves to his chest. The least I could do was try to be inconspicuous.

"Who's the pervert now, sir stares-a-lot?" Mello asked in a happy tone, noticing my staring.

I gasped, whipping around to look at him indignantly. He was smirking that infuriating smirk, making me blush like some little schoolgirl. I turned back to his vest to try to lower the embarrassment a little. Mello wasn't helping with his laughing. Finally, I called over my shoulder, "You're a bastard."

"No I'm not!" he denied. "My mother was married when she had me."

"Smartass," I muttered, turning back around. I needed to hurry and finish unless I wanted my fingers to look like an old man's. I brought his vest back up from the sink, done washing it. Now it just needed to dry, and when it dried, Mello would leave.

I walked to the bathroom carrying the leather garment, intending to hang it to dry. In peripheral vision, I was Mello following me. I bit back a scowl, laying the vest over the towel rack. I stood there for a moment, trying not to smile as I proudly examined my work. For someone who's never washed anything leather in his life(or any type of clothing, for that matter. There was a washing machine for that), I did a pretty damn good job.

Then Mello stepped forward and fuckin' _hugged me from behind. _I froze as I felt his chin rest against my shoulder.

"You make quite the good little house-wife, Matty," he commented, chuckling lowly.

His tone sent shivers down my spine and I blushed for the umpteenth time. Letting myself lean into his touch for just a little while, I escaped his hold and put a good distance between us. "You're such an idiot," I told him, rolling my eyes and walking away from him. "And," I added, stopping to smirk over my shoulder, "I may be a better house-wife, but you're still the most feminine-looking." Seriously, has he ever considered a haircut?

"Oh really?" Mello said, feigning innocence. He was grinning.

I nodded.

"Well, feminine or not, I'd still top your pansy ass," he informed me.

I turned beet red, stuttering, "A-as if!" I tried to recover from the fact that he had said it like it actually _was_ going to happen. Because it was definitely never going to happen. And, _hypothetically, _if it does, I'd top him. There was no way I was going to bottom without a fight.

My mind flashed images of the imaginary scene. Mello and I, naked and-

I suddenly got uncomfortable. "I'm going out!" I announced, feeling extremely weird for even daring to think about Mello and I doing- "You can stay here till your stupid vest dries, but then you're _out, _get it? Out!" I repeated the last word loudly, emphasizing it for good measure, trying to drill it into Mello's brain. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if he stayed, since he's Mello-my-stalker and all, but a guy could hope.

Once I exited my apartment, I paused outside the door, half expecting my place to blow up. It didn't, so I focused on my door, still coated with yolk and stuff. I sighed, calculating how much it would take me to clean the mess up.

Maybe Mello was right about me being such a house-wife.

I made sure I had my keys before starting to jog down to my car. I quickly got in and drove away with no specific destination in mind.

I could go to the mall. I'd left my vest behind, and that would hopefully mean that there would be no girls suddenly glomping me. And there was a pretty good Chinese restaurant just a small distance away from Justice, seeing as Mello had eaten my dinner and I was hungry. L could be there, and we could eat together or something. Or maybe Misa would be there, knowing she's spends nearly all of her free time at the mall shopping. I could ask her for some advice on what do to with Mello and stuff.

After parking my car, I walked into the mall, feeling my mood lighten up as no random girl attacked me. Hm. Maybe I should leave my vest at home more often.

I passed by Justice on my way to the Chinese restaurant. Misa was nowhere in sight, but L was just leaving. We bumped into each other(I may have done it on purpose).

"Oh, hey L," I greeted.

L looked at me with that unnerving gaze. "Hello, Matt."

I shifted a little nervously. "I was just heading to that Chinese restaurant. Wanna come?"

L frowned. "I'm Japanese, though."

"But you don't exactly see Japanese restaurants around here," I said. "Come on, please?" I shot him my puppy eyes through my goggles.

Even the great L was no match for my eyes. He put a thumb to his lips. "I suppose it's about time I eat my dinner, anyway."

I grinned. "Great!" We walked to the restaurant together, me keeping up conversation and L occasionally putting in remarks.

We ate at the restaurant like aforementioned. L decided to give the waiter a hard time by asking if they had any cake. When the waiter shook his head no, L merely replied, "Then your restaurant doesn't deserve a customer like me."

I convinced him to stay, though, and the sweet-obsessed man ate his sweet and sour chicken. I suspected that the only reason he ordered it was because the word 'sweet' was in there. He did look like he enjoyed it though.

We talked a little, but mostly I focused on my food. When I eat, you see, I tend to drown out everything else. All I can see is the plate in front of me, and the only thing in my mind is 'Must. Eat.' I find it funny how usually in romance novels the girl in love with the guy is like 'He's the only thing I see.' And here I am, talking about food. Yeah, that's totally my nature.

"How are you and Mello getting along?" L asked sometime after we finished.

"We're just dandy," I said, but L knew better.

"He is a good influence on you, though," he said, nodding to himself. "I've noticed that you are more focused during work when Mello is around.

_I only do that so I get an excuse to move around, as opposed to being cornered by Mello, _I answered in my head. Instead, I agreed with L. "I guess."

We said goodbye- well, I did. L just nodded and walked away. Sheesh. And he keeps reminding _me _of being polite to people.

Nonetheless, I began to wander aimlessly around the mall. Strangely, I didn't stop by and try to stare discreetly at Victoria's Secret. I merely glanced at it, and strange enough, I pictured _Mello _in revealing underwear. I took a second to salivate at the picture before shaking my head and ordering myself to get my mind out of the gutter. I grumbled to myself, blaming Mello for making me question my straight sexuality. I wasn't gay, or even bi. The only reason I pictured Mello like that was because I spent practically the whole afternoon seeing him shirtless. Yes. That was it.

I hurried home after that, thinking by now Mello's vest had been dried. It was nine o'clock PM, two hours since I left the apartment. That should have been enough time for the vest to dry, right?

I was driving home when I realized my mistake. I'd forgotten to put olive oil on the vest after it dried. Supposedly, the soap would leave behind some stuff in the leather that could cause it to crack or something after it dried. That was why the olive oil was required.

_Whoops! _I thought, smiling sheepishly to myself. I parked by the curb in my usual spot and got out. _Well, I hope the damage won't be too noticeable._ And if it was noticeable, I prayed to god Mello wouldn't be too pissed. Online, I did read about what happened to leather if it wasn't 'conditioned with olive oil.' It said that the soap would have left some of its natural oils, whatever that meant. I hope it doesn't mean that there would be a big gray spot in the middle of Mello's vest. The last thing I needed was to put myself on his hitlist.

I entered my apartment quietly, locking my door with a quiet click. Mello was nowhere in sight. I tugged my goggles down to my neck, blinking and looking around in confusion. I searched my living area and saw the bathroom. The light was on and I could see in the mirror that Mello's vest was still hanging on the rack...meaning Mello was still here.

I turned around, my eyes locking with a figure sleeping in my bed. There was a flash of gold and I knew it was Mello.

As silently as I could, I tip-toed over to the side, kneeling down and checking to see what the hell he was doing in my bed. I tugged the comforter down a little and found that he was asleep.

Okay, I'll admit it. The first thing that popped into my head when I saw his sleeping face was, _Fuck, he looks cute. _Usually he's either smirking at me or looking defiant, but when he was sleeping, he looked like a peaceful lamb. (Excuse my lame simile.)

Then I thought, _Why the hell is he sleeping on my bed!_

I glared heatedly at the slumbering man before me, only to be met with closed eyes and soft snores. I attempted to wake him by poking his shoulder. I didn't have the heart to do worse and just stared at him for a while.

I needed somewhere to sleep, too. There was no way I was sleeping on the couch.

"This is my house," I said to myself softly. "I will not be forced to sleep on the couch." I used that as my mantra, chanting it over and over again in my head. I walked over to the other side of the bed, lifting the covers and gently sliding in next to Mello. I wasn't that big of an asshole to kick him out _now_, when the sun was down. Anyway, it looked like he could keep to himself. My side of the bed looked surprisingly untouched.

I sank into my soft pillow, already feeling drowsy. I cast one worried look at Mello before closing my eyes...

Only for them to snap open again two seconds later, when Mello's arms wound themselves around my waist and he snuggled into me, stuffing his face in the crook of my neck. I growled a little, a little suspicious that he was actually awake and just doing this to wake me. I glanced over my shoulder, but his eyes were firmly shut. Frowning, I removed his arms from my being and pushed him as subtle as I could manage back on his side of the bed.

I waited a good ten minutes to make sure he wouldn't do it again. He didn't.

Satisfied, I put my hands under my head in a makeshift pillow and drifted off to sleep.

**A/N: Well, here you go, folks! :D More stalker-mello! And - omg - some FLUFF? Yes indeed (at least a tiny bit :P) Anyway, we both hope you enjoyed! :D ~Holli (with regaurds from Atreyl)**

***the literal meaning of Bastard is a child (usually a boy) born to a mother who was not married to the father. just for those dummys out there who don't know ;)**


	7. Camaros, Coffee, and Cream Cheese

**Mello's POV**

I've had nightmares since I was seven years old. There has literally never been a night since my seventh birthday that I hadn't woken up sweating and either crying, screaming, or wanting to die. I could never remember what exactly I dreamed about, could never remember what it was that scared me so much inside, but I could guess. I _could - _but I never do. The nightmares have always been there, a constant thing that I've accepted completely into my life - to question them would be almost incomprehendable for me, even now.

So when I woke up this morning feeling warm and calm, I was uncomprehending. All these years of waking up soaked in sweat or screaming… and I had woken up feeling warm, inside and out. I didn't want to open my eyes because of this, the barest flitter of sunlight falling over my face and tempting my eyelids open; instead I left them closed, nuzzling closer to the form beside me.

_The form beside me?_

The unsettling final to that statement made my eyes flutter open, consciousness leaking back into my slumbering body. I found myself curled against somebody, arms wrapped around that somebody's waist, face nuzzled into his chest. Still only half-awake I found myself curling closer against the form, breathing in the scent of him - _Old Spice, ramen, and laundry detergent _- and loving the way his chest rose and fell with his breath.

How had I ended up here…? My brain felt slow and fuzzy as I tried to locate the possible reasons. Had I slept with someone without realizing it, gotten drunk or something? Who was this person who made me feel so perfect? I hadn't woken up beside someone in years, yet here I was, cuddled against this person, too drowsy to look up to see his face and match him to a name.

Slowly, though, the events of the day before came back to me. I was in his house - _Matt's house. _Right… he washed my leather and then stormed out… I fell asleep in his bed. But then…

Why was he beside me?

I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, shifting so that my chin was resting on his stomach, looking up at him. His sleeping face was completely peaceful, his usually expressive face softened, his gently shut eyes no longer under the cover of goggles; those particular eyewear had been discarded on the bedside table. Somehow, the bed-head he had donned this morning completed the pure blissful adorable-ness of the sight, red hair fluffed every which way. Despite my resolve not to get too attached, I find myself smiling sincerely and closing my eyes again, not releasing my grip around his waist. He was so warm, and somehow, beside him, I felt… wonderful.

Wait.

My eyes flew open again, the hair on the back of my neck raising in shock. _No. You did _not_ just think that way. _I choked on my own breath, slipping my arms quickly away from him and tucking them against my chest, moving back to my own side of the bed (or rather, the side I had climbed into before, since it didn't belong to me in any way, shape, or form). The feeling in my chest, something that was suppose to feel warm and wonderful, felt instead like a threatening animal threatening to rip me apart bursting from my chest. The idea that I might like more than just his body, that I might want him for more than just physical means and for my teasing amusement… it wasn't something I was welcome to. _Love _wasn't something I was welcome to.

But that was ridiculous. I didn't even know Matt - it was just me being sleepy. I nodded and rubbed my eyes again, despite already being completely awake, and sat up. Looking down at him, though, I felt an emotion that contrasted wrongly with my resolve, a weird tugging in the back of my chest when I looked at him, still peacefully asleep. But no - this was Nice-Ass. Not a lover, not even a friend. Just someone I tease from work, that's all.

On that note, I slid back down to my laying position, scooting so that we were still right against each other, but instead of me with my arms around him I draped my arms across his chest, leaning around and pinching him in the side. In reaction he squeaked loudly, eyes flying open and waking; I saw nothing after that, because I shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep once again against his chest.

He seemed to buy the act, letting out a reproachful groan. "Dammit, freakin' he-she, using my bed…" It was all I could do not to let out a laugh at his annoyance, even as he shoved me to the side. I couldn't see him, but from his tone, he was probably blushing red as a beet. "What the fuck…" he muttered. "It's still so early… freakin' five-thirty…"_Five thirty!_

My eyes snapped open, a panic going through me immediately as I shoot into an upright position. When I do Matt yelps, obviously startled by my sudden wake. I disregard him, though, flying out of bed and shouting, "FUCKING FIVE THIRTY! I'M GOING TO BE LATE, DAMMIT!"

Leaving a clearly bemused Matt to loll on the bed I flew across the room that wasn't mine to rummage through drawers of clothes that weren't mine. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his tone more lazy and exasperated than angry. I ignored him briefly, shoving through piles of clothes. Did this boy having nothing all black, seriously? _I'll have to improvise…._ Matt, clearly irritated by me ignoring him, demanded, "Mello, _why the hell are you going through my dra-_"

"I can't wear the same outfit twice, stupid," I snapped, irritated by his ignorance. From the corner of my eye I can see his gaze go from bemused to _a_mused, a smirk crawling across his face. I ignored him, though, snatching several articles of clothing from the drawers before sprinting from the room, tossing a comment over my shoulder: "I'm using your bathroom!"

"Great, wonderful, go ahead," Matt called back sarcastically, clearly not at all thrilled with the idea. But I didn't mind - I too frantic to care at that point, slamming the door behind me.

**Matt's POV**

Usually I either wake up to my alarm reminding me I was late for work again or my landlord screaming at me to pay rent(temperamental little man, he is). Naturally, I nearly freaked out the next morning when I felt something tickling my stomach, thinking Snuckumpuss had managed to sneak in and was now about to shit on me. Then I smelled chocolate, and thought, _Oh, it's just Mello._

I drifted back to sleep for a few minutes.

Something pinched my side. My eyes snapped open and I squeaked like a girl. My eyes were trying to get used to the morning light -where were my goggles?- and trying to see who the fuck was currently lying on my chest.

I remembered last night, the me sleeping with Mello part, that is. What I don't remember was letting him cuddle up to me and my arm going around his shoulders to slightly hold him in place.

"Dammit, freakin' he-she using my bed," I muttered, pushing away a little rudely before rubbing my face, trying to erase my blush. I glanced blearily at the clock on my drawer. "What the fuck." I blinked a few more times, squinting. Video games hinders your sight. "It's still so early...freakin' five thirty..."

I'm ready to lie back down and go back to sleep for at least five more minutes, but Mello apparently had other plans. "_Fucking five thirty!_" I jumped about a foot in the air. "I'm going to be late, dammit!" he yelled, shooting up and rocketing to the drawer -_ my _drawer.

I sat there, watching him rifle through my clothes as I rubbed my ear affectionately. Jesus, that man-woman can scream. I think my eardrums just broke. "What the hell are you doing?" I inquired, slurring a little. He ignored me. "Mello," I repeated, louder, "why the hell are you going through my dra-"

"I can't wear the same outfit twice, stupid," he replied snappishly, as if I was some sort of fucking child that needed reprimanding.

Though...that sentence did prove he was girlier than me. I smirked victoriously as he pulled out a couple of clothes and flew off to my bathroom. "I'm using your bathroom!" he told me.

"Great, wonderful, go ahead," I snorted, falling back on the bed just as the door slammed shut. I lied there wearily for about five minutes, wondering why he was so serious about getting to work on time. In my opinion, I think the more important thing is that you actually show up. Besides, who the fuck wakes up before six anyway?

I listened to the sounds of Mello possibly trying to burn down my bathroom(if that was possible) while I waited. Eventually I got sick of the position and hauled myself to my feet, giving the bathroom door one last longing look. I needed a warm shower.

I snatched my goggles from the bedside table, a little annoyed at the fact that he might have seen my eyes. Once they were comfortably wrapped around my head and the world was tinted gold, I walked out of my room and into the kitchen as my stomach growled annoyingly.

My food stock was getting low. _Note to self: go grocery shopping, _I thought as I opened the cupboards. I half-expected moths to fly out(disgusting) as I reached in to grab some bread and peanut butter, noting that I only had four slices left. At least I still had some ramen for dinner, seeing as I'll probably procrastinate on the groceries.

After coating a slice of bread thoroughly with peanut butter, I leaned back in my cheap wooden chair and chewed thoughtfully. The shower had started running, irking me a little. I felt like my too-nice demeanor was being taken advantage for and I hated it. I should step up sometimes and tell people off. I mean, Mello looked like he enjoyed doing it, and I suppose we aren't too different once you get past his perverted ways.

I heard the shower being turned off and the loud _ching! _as the curtains were hastily yanked aside. All the way from the kitchen, I heard Mello shouting various curses. I shook my head, bemused, fully expecting him to come in the kitchen to join me.

He didn't. Not after five minutes...ten minutes...fifteen...

"What the hell!" I snarled, standing up sharply and dusting my hands off on my pants. I stomped back to my room, thinking, _Son of a bitch! Has he forgotten that this is _my _apartment? He has no right to be in the bathroom for-_I checked the clock-_thirty minutes!_

I stood in front of the door, knocking loudly. "Mello!" I called impatiently. "Open up! You've been in there for half an hour now!" No reply from my stalker. "_Mello_!" I repeated, shriller. "I mean it! I'll break the fucking door down!"

"...I'm busy!" he finally yelled back.

"Busy with what?" I said incredulously, twisting the knob. Mello either forgot to lock it or the lock wasn't working, because the door opened smoothly. I wasn't expecting it at all, so I stumbled forward a little, catching myself before I slammed my head on the sink.

"What the hell?" Mello demanded, looking at me over his shoulder.

I straightened, looking at him with one eye opened as I rubbed my arm where the doorway scraped me. My eyes were instinctively drawn to his bare back, silently appreciating the deliciously pale skin. My eyes roved downwards, past the curve of his hips and then stopping to stare at his bare ass.

"Tch, like what you see?" Mello said sarcastically.

In an instant I remembered where I was, what I was doing, who I was staring at, and my sexuality. I stumbled backwards, my fingers just catching hold of the door knob so the door closed shut hard enough to rattle the doorway. I leaned against the wall for support, the sound of my heart beating wildly ringing in my ears. "W-what's taking you so long!" I shouted, my voice cracking as I blushed madly. I tried to erase the picture of Mello's ass, because I was most certainly _straight, _I liked _girls, _and if I did like guys, then I would not be interested in some perverted stalker.

_Maybe..._

"...My hair," Mello replied bluntly from the other side of the door. He sounded so fucking calm and natural, as if I hadn't just burst in and ogled his naked body.

At least he'd been facing the other way...

_Oh god, mind out of the gutter, mind out of the gutter_, I chanted, fleeing from the room. I was too embarrassed to make a sarcastic reply to Mello's answer(Seriously? His _hair?_) and instead plopped down on my sofa, stuffing my face into a pillow. I waited ten seconds before starting to loudly cuss out anything and everything, specifically the man in my bathroom. "Damn you Mello I hate you so much first you wake me a fucking hour earlier than I usually do then you hog my bathroom for half an hour to do your _hair _and now there's probably now hot water left and I needed that damn it but it's not like you really care because you didn't freak out when I walked in on you in your birthday suit and now I'm doubting whether I'm really straight or not and _daaaaaamn iiiiiiit!_" I screamed the last part.

"Wow. Is this the day that I see you have a melt down?" Mello said in amusement.

I made an incoherent noise, twisting my head to the side to glare at him. He was sitting on my coffee table and I noticed in relief that he was wearing clothes. Instead of his usual leather(vest still drying-wait, shit, reminds me, I forgot to put oil on his vest...) he was donning a pair of my black pants and one of my darker striped shirts, with black and gray stripes.

All in all, it looked unfitting.

"Not like I'm enjoying it either, Matty-dear," Mello said with mock happiness, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

I slapped his hand away, annoyed. "I'm taking a shower." I got up.

"Are you kidding?" Mello said, grabbing my wrist and tugging me back. "It's 6:15. We're going to be late."

"6:15!" I repeated. "Forty-five minutes until we have to be at Justice. I think there's enough time there for me to take a quick shower, get dressed, and drive to work. Unless you want me to smell bad," I added as an afterthought. Didn't everyone hate stinky people?

Mello only smiled sultrily, his hand coming to rest lightly on my shoulder. "You smell just fine, Matt," he said lowly, leaning towards me and burying his nose into my hair. Once he drew back, he smiled wider.

"Did you just _sniff _me?" I asked disbelievingly, wrenching my arm out of his grip.

Mello shrugged, looking pleased with himself.

I scowled and spun around to go into my room and change.

"By the way, you're going to have to take me," I paled, "to work," Mello finished. "Once we get there, we're going to that little Panera Bread shop because I haven't eaten anything and I'm definitely not going to eat anything you have."

I grumbled to myself, mocking him as I haughtily pulled on some jeans and my own black and white striped shirt. After lacing my boots, I strode out of the bathroom to see Mello with my vest in his arms. He was examining it, poking the faux sheepskin.

"I thought you didn't want to be late," I drawled after three minutes of watching him.

Mello dropped my vest on the couch, wordlessly walking past me and out into the hallway. He impatiently tapped his fingers against thigh, the other hand on his hip as he grinned faintly at my attempts to lock the door. He looked like some naughty schoolboy.

_No_. I did _not_ just think that.

Cue the pictures of Mello's naked ass invading my mind.

I actually had to slam my head against the door once to get it out. Ignoring Mello's weird stare, I said weakly, "Let's go," knowing that I'd regret it later. And of course, I was right.

_Another note to self: Never let Mello ride the car with you ever again._

**Mello's POV**

Let me tell you something. Just fully denying any emotionally affectionate feelings towards _Matt_ is one thing, and is going to continue to happen. However, that doesn't mean I'm not going to admit that I am most definately in love with his car.

How did a nerd like him get a car this nice anyway? I mean, it's a fucking highly-expensive sports car, and the boy works at _Justice. _Everything about the thought of it screamed either inheritence or illegal, and judging by the shittastic apartment he lived in, I was leaning towards illegal. Either way, though it didn't matter to me - I was never the biggest fan of the law, unless it was the basic shit like no murdering, since that tends to be convenient (i would be dead by now if it didn't exist, more than likely). And even if I was, if breaking said laws meant I got to ride in a kick-ass sports car... well...

Count me in.

And that's exactly what I told him as he half-heartedly inquired if I would like a ride. By the look on his face he was hoping that I would want to walk or something but i ignored the hopeful expression, flashing him a grin before hurrying over to the car. I'm fairly sure he called something out as I hurried over but I ignored him, gazing at the car with something close to awe. It was in mint condition, and yet he drove it? My mind momentarily flashed to Matt working on it and I wondered if he was good with mechanics.

Again ignoring Matt's vague complaints - I think it was "Mell-_oh_!" this time - I pressed my hands against the car's red surface, filled with childish curiosity and awe. If you hadn't guessed, I've always had some sort of fascination with cars like this, despite not really knowing anything about them nor owning one myself. It came from childhood more than anything. And damn, childhood or not, this car was sexy.

"Camaro, right?" I inquired curiously, sliding my fingertips across the paint job. _Flawless. _When he didn't reply I looked up at him. The expression on his face was a mix between impressed, shocked, and bewildered. I smiled - _adorable. _"So, Matty, do I get shotgun or are you going to banish me to the backseat so I can't touch you?"

For a moment he seemed to consider the last part seriously, a thoughtful expression falling over his face, but then he only laughed. It was barely a chuckle, but I found myself fond of the sound; I wanted to hear it again. He didn't seem to see the need to reply, simply opening the door for me. Ignoring the feeling of being a teen girl on a first date I quite happily slipped into the offered seat, letting him close the door behind me. I was already fiddling with the various knobs on the radio when he plopped on his seat; there was a rather proud expression on his face now, a coy little smirk on his face. "Cool car," I commented breezily, just to please him. When he grinned even wider, opening his mouth to reply, I added coyly, "So how'd you pay for it?"

Matt's smile vanished, but when mine didn't, he shrugged, giving me a coy look. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said it was from working hard at Justice...?" he inquired hopefully.

It was my turn to laugh, then threw my hand over my mouth when it came out sounding like a little giggle. In effort to come back from said embarrassing thing, my voice automatically got much gruffer than it usually is. "Not with L's pay, I wouldn't."

Matt smirked. "Well, you'll just have to figure it out then, won't you?" he inquired coyly, only half-concentrating on pulling out of his parallel park.

I smirk back. "Is that an invitation to continue stalking you?" I counter slyly, waggling my eyebrows and sliding my hand across his leg teasingly.

"Is that a confession that you're stalking me?" Matt quips, swatting me away, this time more like a scolding mother than a disgusted straight man.

"Even if it is, will you go tattle-talking to L?" I shoot back, smirking confidently. Quite honestly this is what I was afraid of, but I do my best to keep my tone casual and unworried about said accusation. Matt's face grows pouty and irritated, and as soon as he opens his mouth to shoot back his own reply, I knew I'd won that battle

"'course not. I'm not afraid of you."

I laugh, shaking my head and leaning back against the seat. Before he can say any objection I flip on the radio, which turns to some kick-ass Fall Out Boy song that I half-recognize. "To the mall!" I insist, rolling down the window and throwing him a smirk. "And don't drive like a sissy."

He most certainly did _not _drive like a sissy.

By the end of it, I was certain I had definitely come in contact with the world's one and only gamer-nerdy, sexy-assed, weird-dressing, goggle-wearing, red-headed stunt-driver in the universe. And if I was to judge by the way the wind felt as it whipped through my hair and the wild grin that I knew was on my face when we pulled into the mall's huge parking lot (near empty, since the mall wasn't open yet) I was loving it.

"You coming?" Matt asked blandly from beside me. I blinked, surprised to find that he was already holding the door open for me, a rather sarcastic look on his face. Fighting off the urge to blush I hurried out of the car, muttering under my breath, "Don't be such a smart-ass, Nice-Ass."

Ignoring Matt's complaints - "It's MATT, dammit, MATT!" - I strode across the parking lot and into the mall.

I ended up ignoring Matt almost completely until I reached the store, partially because I was irked (despite it being almost completely my fault) and partially because I got bombarded by four teenage girls asking either for my number or if i wanted to 'hang out' (which probably was code for sex judging by the outfits of said girls) all of which I told to piss off, ignoring Matt's chuckles in the background as they either pouted or marched away in a huff. I only stopped this mostly-undesserved silent-treatment when I reached the entrance of the store (which by the way was only about a 60 or so second walk from the mall's entrance), turning to look over at him. I was almost surprised to see that he was still following me, seeing as how he could have easily ditched me back there and I wouldn't hold it against him if he did quite frankly, but none the less he was there. He had an amused expression on his face, and he didn't pause with me, passing me and entering the store. I sighed and followed, deciding to drop it - i couldn't exactly stay mad at him for being a gentlemen, even if it was uncalled for and in a mocking manner.

Speaking of being a 'gentlemen' he apparently decided he was going to pay for my food, which I didn't argue to considering I have next to no money. He got a bagel with cream cheese along with some water, and I got some salad and a chocolate milk. Two chocolate milks, actually, since they only come in those embarrassing little kiddy-boxes with straws, but whatever. It wasn't like I was here to impress.

"So," Matt mused conversationally as he slipped into his seat at our booth. I plopped down opposite him, leaning back in the seat. "That was weird with those girls back there," he said. "Does that happen a lot?"

To this, I shrug. "Yeah. Girls like us," I note with a sigh, taking a drink of my chocolate milk, ignoring the way the damn kiddy straw felt on my lips (not good). Matt nodded, so I added coyly, "Too bad we're gay, huh?" in the most casual way possible. When he continued to nod with a blank kind of look in his eyes, it was my turn to chuckle. The chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh as he caught himself, a blush burning over his face and his hand flying to cover his mouth in embarrassment.

"Fuck you," Matt growled, taking an angry bite out of his bagel, as if it were the source of all his miseries.

I smirk. "Your place, or mine?" I inquired teasingly. Matt scowled, looking rather disgusted, but I only giggled - er, laughed. "I'm joking." And I _was _joking - I wasn't planning on raping him or something crazy. Matt sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not gay," he reminded me irately, taking another much-more-calm bite of his bagel.

I shrug, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Okay," I muse, shrugging as if in defeat. Then, before I can take time to think it over, I eye him and inquire, "But that's no reason we can't be friends, right...?"

But no, that's not right. That's wrong. The wrong thing to say. I wasn't some desperate person who needed a friend, I wasn't lost and alone, and I didn't need him. I cursed myself inwardly, my mind immediately going on overdrive. Searching for a reason, for an explanation. _Why do I care so much? Why do I want him so badly? Why am I so drawn to him? Why have I become such a stalker? _I racked my brain for the exact moment, for the moment that I obtained this strange crush-like attachment to him, this... _fixation _that I couldn't explain. I tried to locate the moment that the bond was formed against my will.

I think it must have been when I punched him.

Back in reality, Matt was blinking bemusedly. "Friends...?" he inquired slowly, as if the concept was completely foreign to him. And perhaps it was - strange as it sounds, I don't really have many friends myself. The closest things I have are Halle (who is more of a party-pal than an actual friend) L (who is more like an older brother) and Near (who I hate most of the time). From the look of things, I doubt Matt's doing much better, especially judging by the blank look in his eyes.

For one reason or another the reaction makes me laugh, despite the pain it causes in my chest - another thing I just can't explain. "Matty," I chuckle, reaching across and ruffling his hair. "Don't put on that stupid face, common. Just forget it. Let's just go to Justice."

Matt blinked. "Matty?" he asked incredulously. Then, to my surprise, he smiled. "Nah. Friend's is fine. Just so long as you stop staring at my ass, anyway," he added the last part quickly with a scolding-mother tone of voice, getting up and carrying his tray to the trash.

I follow, chuckling out of amusement and the relief in my chest. "No promises," I call back, tossing the leftovers from the salad into the trash-can and hurrying after him to exit the restaurant. Matt rolled his eyes and hurried his way towards Justice - we had four minutes to get there still, but he was obviously still paranoid about being late, which he had perfectly good reason to be, since L was standing in the window staring us down in his usual creepy fashion. He didn't seem surprised when we strolled in together, though Misa seemed shocked, staring at me like I was - oh wait. _Shit, the clothes. _They were so obviously Matt's that it almost screamed _I slept at his place last night. _Which, of course, I _did, _and in his bed, but not anything kinky. Er, mostly.

Whatever.

I strolled past Misa, informing her breezily that I was taking cashier duty. She only nodded blankly as I passed, only waiting a few moments before the situation seemed to click in her mind and she took off to pump Matt for details or whatever else Misa talked about on a regular basis (nothing with much substance, I'm sure.) I decided for once to take my mind of Matt and text Halle to pry until she told me what chapter we were suppose to be on in our first class, but I never got the chance to send before, to my surprise, L strolled over. "Mello, may I speak to you for a moment?" he inquired as he reached the counter.

I blinked and shoved my cellphone back into my - err, well, Matt's - pants, looking back up at him. "Yeah, sure," I replied, surprised that he was talking casually to me durring work hours. Usually he was holed up in his office or running around shouting orders; this was a nice change in pace, since I haven't reallly gotten the chance to talk to him lately.

L smiled wanly, which should have been cute but instead scared me - that wasn't his usual smile. That was the smile he used when he was trying to soften a blow. Immediately I was on alert, straightening up my posture. The smile grew even more wan at this - it was obvious he could see that he was translucent to me, from having known him so long, and it had always irked him - he thrived on being unreadable. But none the less, he continued, "Mello, are you having financial troubles?"

I frown. Not what I had been expecting in the slightest, but... "Yeah, sort of," I say uncertainly, shrugging. "You know, collage fees, apartment rent..." I shrugged helplessly, blushing a little. "I'm handling it," i muttered after a few second of L staring at me.

"I see. Then why are you staying with Matt?" L inquired suspiciously. I narrowed my own eyes (he hadn't narrowed his eyes, they were always round and wide no matter what expression he happened to wear it seemed), trying to work out in my mind where this was going.

"I'm not..." I said, slowly. When he frowned at my outfit, I elaborated, "I just spent the night last night because... uh... we were..." I paused for a second - what could I say, 'because I was stalking him and fell asleep on his bed'? I force a smile. "We were just hanging out, you know, chillin'. I fell asleep on his couch, so he just let me spend the night." A lie, but not a complete lie... okay, so it was a complete lie, but L seemed to decide to drop it, shaking his head and stepping back.

"Alright," L relented, but there was a scolding tone to his voice as he added, "but if you sexually harass Mail, I'll not hesitate to punish you. Tease him all you want, as it's only your nature, but if you make him quit-"

"He won't quit," I interrupted him blandly, shaking my head. "He's too stubborn." Before he could make a retort I shooed him away, shaking my head as I realized that this was more than likely true - Matt had proved his stubbornness in our tussle during my first day. "Now hurry off to whatever the hell it is you do in that office and let me be, the obnoxious preteen girls will be here soon and I don't want to keep them waiting."

To this, L smiled. "Okay," he mused, patting my head affectionately before turning around, strolling away towards his office. I didn't have the chance to watch him go because as soon as he was gone a group of giggling teen girls swooped in to buy a set of sparkly headbands. _Oh, joy._

Two long hours of preteen girls buying things and/or hitting on me, Misa jabbering in my ear, shooting Matt snarky glances, and trying to block out the sounds of Hanna Montana songs blaring from the speakers later, it was time for a coffee break. Matt, Misa, and I had the same coffee break, which was both good and bad (good being Matt, bad being Misa, though she did offer to buy, which was good for me.) Trading my shift off to some nondescript employee who's name I could never remember I hurried out after Matt.

"So, Starbucks, Nice-Ass?" I inquired, tapping him on the side. Matt jumped at the sudden approach - he'd been talking to Misa and was obviously distracted - but as soon as he saw it was me his expression went from horrified to irked. Hey, it was a slight improvement, right?

"Yepper! I can't wait, I soooo need some coffee right now! Frappies, here I come!" As you might have guessed, that was _not _Matt but the peppy blonde beside him answering for him, bopping up and down with excitement as she walked. I noted blandly the way her pigtails bobbed in reverse-sync with her body, and I felt grateful that she wasn't especially busty, for it would have been quite the disturbance on my part if her boobs were to follow suit.

"I prefer my coffee black," Matt mused, shaking his head. "I don't know how you girls can drink that sugary crap."

I scowled. "Hey! _I _drink that sugary crap, Nice-Ass, are you comparing _me _to a girl?"

Matt smirked. "Yep."

Before I could make a snarky reply L was suddenly between us, the usual blank expression on his face and his thumb resting between his teeth. "That is not a very accurate comparison, Matt-kun, for many men enjoy sweets as well. It is simply more exaggerated with girls, thanks to the connection of chocolate and love in fantasy and advertisement. However-"

"I'm confused!" Misa announced perkily. L sighed, shaking his head, and apparently chose to discontinue the topic. INstead of pressing him Misa only continued to grin stupidly, looking up at me with a joyful expression. "Soooo, Melly-chan, what do you want?"

I scowled. "Chocolate frappichino. No whip cream." Misa's pigtails again bobbed as she nodded, scurrying away with a joyful expression on her face. As soon as she seemed to be out of earshot Matt suddenly burst into laughter, slapping his forehead as he did. I looked up at him, staring at him incredulously - i didn't know weather to be angry that he was laughing, presumably at me, or overjoyed that I got to hear his addictive laughter again. "_What?_"

"Pfff... MELLY-CHAN!" Matt cried instead of answering, clapping his hands joyously. Beside me, L only stared, seeming to be as bemused as I was. Or at least, had been, becuase it was quickly dawning on _me _what a ridiculously stupid, girly nickname that was. Freakin' Misa... I swear, if she didn't sneak me chocolates from her lunch break, I would have her assassinated.

Suddenly, L spoke up, "Oh, Matt, you appear to have cream cheese on your cheek." His voice was completely casual, as if this were the topic we were actually on. Perhaps, in his mind, it was - he'd always been the odd one, and thus odd things captured his attention. And as soon as he said this said thing captured my attention, too, my eyes training on the cream cheese on his cheek. _Has that been there all day from Pinnara? _I wondered bemusedly as Matt blushed, hand flying to the opposite cheek and squeaking, 'dammit, where?' in an irked tone.

I smirk, unable to help myself, and slide forward. "Here, let me get it," I muttered under my breath, keeping my tone almost as casual as L's. Matt's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and for good reason too, since I had leaned forward and removed the cream cheese. With my mouth.

If you were wondering, it was strawberry.

I licked my lips as I stepped back to my original spot, careful to keep an easy-going expression on my face. Matt stared at me bewilderedly, face blushing red enough to rival his hair as I looked around. As I suspected L was staring at us blankly as usual, as were quite a few horrified Starbucks-costumers. Including Misa, who was standing at the counter looking ready to faint at any moment and spill Matt's black coffee all over herself.

Finally, I had to break the silence, chirping, "So, are we sitting down, or is this to go?"

Matt stared at me for a few seconds before replying, eyes narrowing slightly. "Mello, what the fuck?" was his genius statement that followed. I almost laughed, but i caught myself, shrugging with faux innocence.

"Getting cream cheese off of your cheek, of course," I mused cheerfully, relishing in the way Matt's already bewildered expression went tense and mortified. It's all i can do not to burst into laughter as I continue, "We're friends, right, Matty? And friends do each other favors, so that's what I did." I shrug, as if this is no big deal, and brush past him towards Misa with the last add-on to my statement being, "So, coffee, or what?"

Misa resembled a statue as I pried my own drink from her hands (she was so frozen I literally had to yank), but Matt seemed to recover (or was being a stubborn ass again) and hurried over with L in tow, though he was still blushing a little. This was altogether extremely pleasing for me - not only had he had the most adorable expression on the entire universe on when I did it, but everyone seemed to simply disregard it, save for the coy comment Matt made, which was, "I'm adding this to the list of all the creepy things you've done to me, you know."

I laughed, shaking my head. "That list's going to be a long one. Might want to type it up, wouldn't want to waste paper," I quipped, thinking back inwardly. I really had been a creep lately... but whatever. Worth it.

He rolled his eyes, as if reading my mind. "Oh yeah, I forgot we're going green now, right?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yep. Which also mean's we should definitely cut back on our water use and shower together," I noted wisely, nodding my head and taking a sip of my coffee.

Matt choked on his coffee, for a moment loosing his momentum, then shrugged. "Or we can just not shower at all..." he tried, clearly not enjoying the image in his mind as much as I was.

"But then you wouldn't smell like raspberry shampoo anymore," I replied in a mock-pout, full with crossing my arms over my chest and stamping my foot.

"Oh, so now the Man-Woman sniffs me?" Matt inquired, seeming more amused than disturbed.

"Add it to the list, sweet-cheeks."

At this Matt could apparently not hold in his laughter any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles. His laughter, as i mentioned before, is addictive, and I found myself doubling over with laughter too at the irony and rediculousity of it all. While we were in the midst of our laugh-attack L and Misa simply stared at us, as if they had suddenly discovered we had both been born with two heads and they'd simply never noticed it before.

Finally our laughter started to subside and I downed another drink of my frappichino. It was delicious, but upon farther thought, so was that cream cheese...

"Misa-Misa is confused..." Misa muttered, her voice for once growing quiet and twiddling her fingers. "Misa feels very out of the loop..." I sighed and gave her a sarcastic smile, inwardly wondering where 'I' had gone and how it could be found again. Matt, in turn, was giving her an apologetic look, as if her being in said loop was of upmost importance to him (which I highly doubt it actually was).

"Sorry, Misa," he apologized honestly, though the amusement in his eyes remained. When he glanced over at me after this, I was surprised to find a new kind of recognition in them, one that wasn't unhappy to see that I was still standing there - it made me glad, because I was starting to like him more than I thought i ever woul-

No wait. That's not what I meant...

"Well, the coffee break is over," L announced suddenly, tossing his already empty Venti-something into the trash-bin. I glanced down at my own drink, which was still mostly full, but I supposed I could always just bring it into work. It was technically against the rules, but L brought in drinks and candy all the time so he really couldn't complain. "We can't be late. I imagine that Linda-" _So that's her name! _"-won't be happy with the arrangement if she's forced to work any later than is necessary."

"Sure thing, L," I reply with a shrug, glancing over at Matt again, if only for the hope that he'll glance back with that same dim affection, but he's not looking my way, instead staring obediently at L.

"Yessir!" Misa cheers, complete with a fully-flaunted salute before throwing back her drink and downing it all in one go, tossing said drink into the trash bin, and practically sprinting back to Justice as if her life depended on not being a single second late. Perhaps, in her simple mind, it came close enough to hurry. For a moment, in the back of my mind, I wonder if it might be easier to be so simple. I wonder if it might be less scary not to be so smart.

Before I can wrap my head around the topic Matt bumps past me to follow L back to the store. I take a second to, admittedly, stare at his ass as he hurries after the raven-haired insomniac before following them back to Justice for another afternoon of teen-girl induced horrors. Horrors that, as I look over at Matt before parting for the counter, maybe (just maybe) might not be so bad after all.

**A/N: Oh, wow, my part is SO lame. DX sorry, kiddies, but i couldn't think straight while i wrote this. but its out. we should be getting more into plot line later on, but remember this is only chapter seven and this IS a mostly-humor peice, so... yeah XD but hey, poor Mell, eh? conflicted in his head. :P what happened with him i wonder? oh wait, i don't have to wonder - it's my story, i already know! HAH! anyhoo, reveiw, k? it makes Atreyl and I very happy :D**


	8. Some Pretty Messed Up Shit, That Is

**A/N: Okay, first of all, I'd just have to say that this was the most frustrating chapter to write for me (Holli), mostly because I had writers block AND when I was putting our parts together this dumbass program kept shutting down if I pasted in more than, like, a paragraph, so bad that I ended up just re-typing a portion of F's -face palm- so yeah. ENJOY? XD**

**Mello's POV**

I opened my eyes to find that it was dark in my apartment. Freezing, in fact. _The damn heater must be broken, _I thought grumpily, sitting up in my bed and rubbing my eyes. As I sat up I realized I was naked, and a numb feeling of unhappiness settled over me. _Naked? _Usually I at least wore boxers to bed… but I shrug it off. I must have been to lazy after my shower.

Just as I have this thought, though, the sheets that were over my body shifted without me moving. I blinked in surprise and turned my head to find that I wasn't alone in my bed, instead finding a person laying beside me. A person that, at first, I didn't recognize. He had the sheet pulled up mostly over his head, just the barest tuft of hair showing through. What gave it away, of course, was the color of the hair.

Red as a canary.

"Nice-Ass?" I inquired, twisting in my seat. I realized with a pang that my ass hurt - ass hurt? Immediately a panic set into me and I leaned forward, shaking his shoulder. "Matt, wake up! What happened last night?"

Matt groaned angrily at being woken up before twisting his head to look up at me, his eyes sleepy behind his still-present goggles. "Eh? You don't remember?" Matt muttered sleepily, sitting up too. I stiffened in surprise as he smiled warmly at me, his arm curling around my waist and hugging me to his side. "Wow, you really were hammered last night, weren't you? So much you can't remember us making love, huh?"

I blinked, feeling an involuntary blush fall over my face. I couldn't explain it, but I think that what scared me more than the fact that he said we had slept together was that he called it _making love. _That couldn't be right. You could only 'make love' if you love the person. And Matt…

I didn't love him.

"Matt…" I begin, trying to rack my mind for any memory of the previous night - _had I gone home with him? How did I get drunk at Justice? Did I go to a club afterwards? _- but I lost my chance to continue when Matt leaned forward unexpectedly and kissed me, his lips warm on mine. I gasped into the kiss but didn't fight it, feeling his arms slide around my waist and pull me into him. I found that I was stiff as a doll as he kissed and touched me, holding me to him, but he didn't seem to notice my inactivity, only continuing to kiss me. He had no reason not to - I found myself enjoying it as he pushed me down onto the bed, straddling me unexpectedly.

When he broke off the kiss to plant kisses down my neck I managed to speak again. "Matt, what the hell?"

Matt only scoffed and slid his hands across my hips, causing me to shiver. "Oh please," he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing down my stomach, lips curved into a smile as he did. "Not as if you don't enjoy this."

I threw my head back and groaned angrily, not because he was doing this, but because he was right - I did enjoy it. I enjoyed _him._

"You're so cute, Mello," Matt purred, leaning upwards to kiss me roughly, though the kiss only lasted a moment before he broke it off to smirk at me.

I blushed, my lips moving to voice words that I didn't think about before hand. "I love you, Matt."

"Oh… Mel…" Matt chuckled, planting another kiss on my forehead. And then, out of no where he stiffened, his nails biting into my shoulders. I opened my mouth to squeak in protest but he had already opened his, letting out an inhuman shriek that shattered my eardrums and caused my closed eyes to fly open…

…and I was awake, finding myself broken into a horrible sweat on my bed once again. This time, though, I was alone, the only sound besides my heavy breathing being my alarm shrieking in my ear.

_A dream._

My brain still buzzing numbly I reach out and slam my fist against the alarm, cursed when the damn thing didn't turn off, punched it again, then watched blankly as it was yanked from the socket and fell to the floor, the screen cracking. Oh well. It should still work.

Maybe.

I didn't have the brain-power at the moment to even care about that, though, slinking from my bed and into the bathroom. I realized as I got up that I had a very obvious hard on protruding down south, painful against my apparently-present boxers. I stripped them off, still numb as I crawled into the shower, ignoring the uncomfortable condition of my dick as the cold water spilled over me. It's not until the hard on eventually dilapidates and vanishes unattended that my brain starts working normally again.

It was a dream, of course. Why was I so surprised? It was a completely irrational dream - I mean honestly, how would that even have actually happened? But then, dreams tend to be that way, don't they? And really I shouldn't have been that surprised that I had a sexual dream about Matt, what with all my attention to his ass lately - he _was _sexy after all. No, what bothered me really was two things.

One was that I was apparently uke. As if.

Second, and more importantly, was what was said in the dream. Was that I said… I frown, turning off the water on the shower and shaking my head. I didn't even want to go there. I didn't love Matt - what a stupid thought, really. I barely knew him, and anyway I wasn't even interested in an actual relationship with him beyond being friends or maybe just fucking him a few times and then just being friends again. I wasn't one of those people that could… _do _that.

I just wasn't.

And on that note I dried off, dressed, and left for work without breakfast, deciding that I had no intention of ever going back on that thought.

**Matt's POV**

Bunnies were taking over the world.

Terrified, and utterly lost, I pressed myself back in the corner of what used to be a bright store-for-tweens called Justice. Said store had been reduced to ruins after the bunnies raided it in hopes of finding more carrots. I don't know why the hell bunnies were plotting against humans, I, for some reason, didn't remember anything. It didn't make sense since I had photographic memory, and I would have certainly remembered seeing '_BUNNIES BEGIN WORLD DOMINATION' _on the front page of the New York Times.

All I remembered was that unfortunate day when the bunnies stormed Justice. The first thing I'd heard was someone screeching, "Attack! Find carrots! No mercy! Spare no humans!" before the windows literally exploded, bits of glass flying everywhere. White colored bunnies- once adorable and not murderous- flew in carrying machine guns the size of my arm.

We tried to hold the fort, believe me, we did. L was throwing capoeira kicks at the little rabid creatures, Misa was stepping on them with her high heels, I was fending them off with my broom...and Mello. Mello was shooting at them with his own gun, but his valiant effort was futile as they avoided him with scary accuracy.

Eventually we grew tired. Misa was the first to go- locked in the supply closet, deprived of her favorite purse. L was knocked unconscious and got carried off to some place unknown. Mello was also carried off somewhere, too, kicking and screaming, "Matt! Don't worry, my love! I'll find my way back to you even if it means building my own nuclear missile and firing it at these- Mmph!" The last part was because a bunny stuffed a carrot into his mouth.

And I screamed back, "Mello! I love you!" in a very passionate, heartbroken voice. Then the bunnies dispersed, leaving me all alone in the remains of Justice.

So there I was, two days later, back in the store with bunny repellent and an AK-74. It was quiet- almost _too _quiet, like it gets in those movies right before-

"Human located! Prepare launch for nuclear missile!" a bunny droned.

I screamed, lashing out with my repellent and spraying in front of me. I must have hit them right in the face, because I heard them cough and sputter. With the enemy distracted, I dashed forward, brandishing my gun and squeezing the trigger, only to realize that it had no bullets to begin with.

The smoke cleared(smoke? When did that get there?) and I caught a good view of the bunnies.

Or, well, half-bunnies.

Their heads were Mello's. As in, my hot blond stalker, apparently my love for the time being, scowling at me with a body of a bunny, holding out a grenade launcher loaded with explosive rounds.

I whirled and ran, jumping over knocked-down racks, avoiding the massive Mello-headed bunnies. As their leader screamed, "Attack!" right behind me, I was already running, heading for the nearest exit.

Then the real Mello appeared, in his leather-clad glory. He swooped down with a mysterious rope that appeared out of nowhere and saved me from being the bunnies' meal. For some reason, we were suddenly teleported to the overused field of flowers, fifty feet away from each other.

We began running.

Cue the music.

_The only one for me is you, and you for me. So happy together!_

My eyes opened to the sight of my ceiling. The first thought that processed into my brain was, God_damn _I need to change Misa's ringtone.

I reached over to the side, grabbing my phone and flipping it open. It was Misa, reminding me not to be late again. Speaking of which...

"Not again!" I howled, flying out of bed and promptly running into the drawer. With a bruising side and a string of curses, I got through my usual before-work rush. I was at the top of the stairs, ready to step down, when I heard the landlord.

"You still haven't paid your rent. That's three days overdue now, Mrs. Pavlakovich, and I'm afraid I'll have to ev-"

"I'll pay the rent!" Mrs. Pavlakovich cut him off with a snappish tone. "Just give me one more day."

My nice side decided to pop up, and I boldly declared, "She already paid the rent."

The two of them, down the hall just a few feet away, turned to look at me in surprise.

"Yeah, didn't you get the check?" I said, still a little out of breath.

The landlord stared at me scrutinizingly. I put on my best convincing look. "I'll check my mailbox again," he said, clearly not impressed by my sudden step-up.

"Not your mailbox, check your bank account. Mrs. Pavlakovich was too busy yesterday caring for Snuckumpuss to write out a check, so she asked me to transfer the money just directly to you account. Hope you don't mind," I added the last part, as if it would totally make up for the huge lie that just spilled from my mouth.

The landlord gave me a withering look before stomping off, probably to go check his bank account, the greedy little mugger. Something told me he did want the crazy old cat lady gone.

" 'Bye!" I called out to Mrs. Pavlakovich, waving before I disappeared down the stairs. I had no idea what just happened, though I did know that I had to do some hacking sometime before the end of the day.

I got caught in traffic on the way to Justice. The other drivers were honking and screaming each other, and as you might have guessed, it didn't help with the migraine that was slowly forming in my brain. I suppose it wasn't all too bad; it gave me time to think about my dream.

It wasn't unusual for me to dream of something...unique. Mello-headed bunnies aren't the weirdest things I've dreamt about, trust me on that. But the thing that bugged me was..._Mello._ The guy already gives me a hard enough time in real life, did he have to follow me into my dreams, too? And did that field-of-flowers scene have to happen? God knows what I would have dreamed up next if Misa hadn't interrupted.

But strangely, sitting there in my car with the two drivers in front of me taking turns flipping each other off, it felt nice, to say the least. I don't know why, and I intended on finding out, but at that time, I was almost glad it was Mello who was about to run into my arms and kiss my breath away while-

Shit. "I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight," I chanted to myself as I _finally _found a parking spot relatively close to the mall. I chanted the phrase in my head and quietly to myself as I walked to Justice. Apparently, I wasn't quiet enough, seeing as a handful of boys shot me sad looks and girls kept grinning victoriously. I was too tired- and a little irked- to really care, until I stopped mid-step and remembered I was fucking late.

I broke out into a run, skidding to a stop when the bright store came into view. I almost ran into those security things beside the door, stumbling inside as Jonas Brothers blasted my ears, but that didn't stop me from further running to the counter. I noticed Mello at the last second, my eyes darting around to see if L was there. He was nowhere in sight, though I wasn't going to take any chances. I randomly picked a customer and rushed to the woman, once again almost running into her. I stopped a little too close, then nervously stepped back, asking hurriedly, "How may I assist you?"

"Fluffy!" her daughter squealed, jumping up and latching onto me. She nuzzled her face into my vest.

My fake smile fell when I realized I was indeed wearing my molesting-prone vest.

The mother shook her head disapprovingly, yanking her kid off of me and walking away. "But mommy!" the little girl shrieked. "Fluffy!"

I turned around, half-expecting L to be there. Instead I found myself looking at Mello, who waved.

You see, the thing is with Mello, he is not friendly unless he wants something for you. So instead of returning the gesture, I frowned at him. "Hey Nice-Ass," he greeted gleefully. "You're late again."

I wonder if he takes pleasure in my pain. Automatically, I give him a half-horrified, half-pleading look. "You won't tell, will you?" I said, my voice on the edge of begging. The last time L got enough of my being late, it wasn't pretty. He made Misa go on a shopping trip with me, his reason being, and I quote, "Your horrendous clothes will scare away our customers." Not that it really worked, and he didn't seem to remember by the next day. L was extremely patient when it came to me, but sometimes I swear I can see malice in his eyes.

"I dunno. Maybe I will, I mean, it's my duty as a Justice employee…" Add hair flip. While I would have usually found that retarded, it made him look, dare I say, _cute._

_I'm straight. I'm straight. I'm straight._

Then Mello made a remark about his chances of getting me into bed. There, I exploded. "Your chances of getting me in bed are already zero, you douche," I said, irritated. "I'm straight, I tell you, straight! Are you just so gay that you don't relalize every other guy isn't, or what?" _I'm straight. I'm straight. I'm-_

Mello blushed.

Fucking _adorable._

Cue Matt having a mental breakdown.

_I'm straight! _I yelled in my head. _Straight, straight, straight. Definitely gay - WAIT, I mean, straight! Dammit!_

"-you walked in on me naked, I remember now," Mello was saying.

Horrified, I stammered, "It was an accident!" God, that was a lame comeback…

As I scrambled to think up another wittier one, Mello added, "You stared at my ass."

"Well… look who's talking!" I snapped, whipping around and marching away. Okay, so maybe it was childish, but sometimes Mello really infuriated me. Then again, I was too busy re-picturing Mello's blushing face to really pay attention to anything after that.

**Mello's POV**

I arrived, as expected, before Matt did. Meaning I was on time, strolling into the girly-as-ever store with a confident smirk on my face. It felt good to be back in my leather, and I'd successfully gotten hit on by a hot British guy on my way in.

The only downside to the British guy was that all I could think of was that he wasn't as cute as Matt, but I won't go into that. Beside the point. Totally.

"Good morning, Mello!" Misa chirped from her place folding t-shirts, a bright smile on her face. I smile back, not because I'm particularly happy to see her, but because I was trying to get an excuse to wipe the scowl off my face at the previous thoughts. I was kind of hoping as I slid behind the counter that she would stop talking to me, but - of _course _- she didn't. Instead she practically skipped over and stopped at the counter, leaning on the counter and giving me a bright smile. "What's up?"I give her a hard stare, immediately annoyed. "Nothing," I growl. "Absolutely… _nothing._"

Misa frowned, a pout appearing on her face. "Aww, Melly-chan is lying to me…." she whined, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a huff. "You can tell me!" As if to prove this she childishly crosses her finger over her heart, as if this proves everything. Perhaps, to her simple mind, it did.

Luckily L walked in at that moment and saved me, tapping Misa on the shoulder and informing her that a customer had arrived that needed her help to decide between two shirts that looked nearly identical (at least to me). She nodded dutifully and, apparently forgetting me completely, scampered away. _Oh thank god._

L, seeming to sense my relief, sent me a warning glance before turning way. Before he did, though, he turned around again, giving me a look. I blinked in surprise, about to ask what the hell before he inquired, "Has Matt arrived yet?"_No,_ I almost said automatically, then paused. I had declared Matt my friend, hadn't I? My mind wandered to Starbucks when Matt and I were laughing and joking with one another - that was good, right? Didn't I owe him? So instead I said, "Yeah, he came in with me, he just went to the bathroom. He'll be back soon."L gave me a suspicious look, a frown across his face. Before he could accuse me of lying, I added coyly, "I spent the night at his place again." A lie, but one that caught him off guard, wide eyes widening a bit more again. I smirked, enjoying the thought of being able to stick possibly-dirty thoughts into his head even if I was totally lying to him. "So, don't you have work to do?"

"…Yes," L said slowly before wandering back to his office - _what does he do in there anyway? _- my e yes trailing after him as he did.

Just as the door swung shut Matt suddenly exploded into the store (seven minutes late) a panic-stricken look on his face as he scrambled to look like he was working. He didn't seem to notice I was already at the counter until he reached it, a strained look in his eyes. I didn't bother to tell him what I'd done, enjoying too much the freaked look on the redhead's face as he bounded to look like he was very busy, practically attacking a brunette woman in attempt to help her.

I smirked as the woman shook her head and hurried away, muttering to herself and toting her little daughter after her - not before the little girl molested poor Matt's vest, that is - and waved a little to Matt as he turned around. The redhead frowned at me, apparently thinking I was up to something. Maybe I was - I was barely in control of what the hell I did anymore."Hey, Nice-Ass," I purred cheerfully, flashing him a winning smile. "You're late again."

Matt's frown deepened, eyes widening behind those goggles of his. Before I knew it he was beside me behind the counter, body stiff with some sort of panic. "You won't tell, will you?" he immediately hissed, fear in his eyes. Clearly, he had been punished by L before and knew the extent of it. Though, really, the accusation was rather ironic, considering…

"I dunno," I mused teasingly, flipping my hair over my shoulder and shrugging. "Maybe I will, I mean, it's my duty as a Justice employee…"

When Matt's eyes narrowed in irritation, mouth still turned into a worried frown, I put on a faux-thoughtful expression, tapping my index finger to my lips as if in deep thought, musing aloud, "Though I suppose that would severely injure my chances of ever getting you in bed, so…"

I had to laugh as Matt about jumped out of his skin from the suggestion, a blush spreading deeply across his face; it was irritating that my chuckle came out more like a giggle, but I ignored this in favor of enjoying his adorable humiliation-face.

Instead of retreating away this time he shot me a glare, though the intensity of it was damaged greatly by the delightful blush on his face. "Your chances of getting me in bed are already zero, you douche," he snapped defensively. "I'm straight, I tell you, _straight! _Are you just so gay you don't realize that every other guy ISN'T or what?"

For some reason, I blushed at the comment, though I knew he was only trying to fluster me. To make up for the blush, I sent him a glare of my own and retorted, "Are _you _so straight you never even look at other boys? Oh, _wait, _you walked in on me naked, I remember now."

I relished in the way his eyes widened and his blush darkened at the comment, and I knew by the expression that I had already won. "It was an accident!" he squeaked in protest, fists clenching at his sides. I smirk. "You stared at my ass," I reminded him coyly.

"Well look who's talking!" Matt cried before spinning around and marching rather childishly away. Despite him having the last, rather abrupt last word, I felt that I clearly won the argument and was smiling to myself as he disappeared behind the racks.

At least, I was until the first customer showed up and started hitting on me. Then the smile went away.

"Hi there…" the girl purred, waggling her eyebrows a bit. I kept a straight face as she leaned over the counter and waggled her fingers at me. I suppose she was a pretty girl, if you like girls that is - dark skin, long straight black hair done up in barrettes, bright blue eyes, nice body though she was a tiniest bit too skinny in my opinion (does this girl _eat?_), skinny jeans, tank top, high heeled boots, not too much makeup. Meh.

"How may I help you?" I replied blandly, glancing at the fact that she had no items with her. She didn't faultier at my lack of enthusiasm, instead widening her smile and sitting up a bit straighter.

"Oh, I can think of a couple things…" she practically purred, blue eyes glimmering with mischief of some kind. I frowned - _is this what it's like for Matt, I wonder? _The thought catches me off guard, and I don't like it, mostly because it leaves me feeling bad for the girl and for Matt, neither of which I want to do.

"Um," I reply brilliantly, distracted by my thoughts. I must have looked kind of appalled, because she backs off a bit, though she's still looking at me flirtatiously through her eyelashes.

"So… I'm Kristina," she introduced herself brightly, her voice curling in a flirty way.

I sigh. Here we go again.

Looking to get it over with quickly I leaned forward, patted her on the head, and told her, "Sorry, hun, but my heart belongs to someone already. Don't waste your time - you're a pretty girl, but you're not for me, okay?" _Wait… was I just NICE?_

No, more important: _did I just say my heart BELONGED to someone? _The thought was extremely frightening, not to mention a lie. However, that _lie _seemed to let off the girl pretty easily. Her face immediately went from flirty to surprised, then warm and quite blissful. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir," she gushed, distancing herself from me graciously and pushing her hair behind her ear in apparent nervous habit. "good luck with you and your girl, okay?"

"Will do," I replied blatantly, watching her as she practically floated away. Weird. But not as weird as that excuse - couldn't I have just said 'I'm gay'? Wouldn't it have been better to let her off with the truth rather than a lie? Either way, though, it hardly mattered - it did the trick, right?

Quite a few customers later Misa took over my post at register and got me to put away some of the shirts on the rack. I was rather lazy about it, seeing as it was a highly easy job, putting each shirt away with rather slow specific-hood. I had about half of them put away when I spotted Matt. The boy was trying to sneak past me on his way to wherever he was going - probably to help a customer or something - but I spotted him easily seeing as he was right behind me and turned to him, flashing him a fake-cheery smile. "Hey, Matt, what're you doing?"

Matt sighed irately as I called him out and turned around to talk to me, strolling over with an irked expression on his face. "What do you want?" he inquired bluntly, clearly not thrilled about speaking to me again after our little argument earlier.

I frowned a little without meaning to, a strange feeling of disappointment settling over me. "Nothing, really, I just wanted to say hi," I mutter, turning around and continuing the shirts. What was more irksome than the fact he was still irritated with me over something so small was that my words were the truth. I really _did _just want to say hi.

"Oh," Matt replied brilliantly from behind me, seeming befuddled.

I scoffed, putting up the last of the shirts on the rack. "What did you _think _I wanted? A quickie behind the T-shirt rack?" I respond sarcastically, turning around and smirking at him. Matt's eyes widened at the words, choking on nothing. I smiled to myself when I turned around at the expression - _I wonder how many more adorable expressions he has hidden on that face of his…?_

Suddenly Matt grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around, a look of humiliated anger on his face. I blinked, eyes widening at the expression - I wasn't sure if I was suppose to be afraid of the glare he was sending me or squeal at how adorable his blush was. I chose neither, choosing to just stare at him dumbly for the 20 seconds he stared at me silently.

Then he said, "Mello, what the hell is wrong with you, really?" There was irritation thick in his voice, but there was teasing there too, and I both loved and feared it.

Being the asshole that I am I didn't simply slap him away and say 'nothing'. No, I had to take it a further and I took a step _forward, _sliding my hands across his chest flirtatiously and grinning at him, quipping, "I dunno… maybe you can be my therapist and figure it out?"

Matt frowns deeply, calculating this statement in his head before it registers in his mind that I'm on him again and he shoves me away. I laugh as I stumble backwards, seeing as the shove wasn't really painful or even very hard, and he scowls at me. "I hate you," he snapped blatantly.

My laughing stopped abruptly in my throat - why did that comment hurt? Still, seeing as he was really just making for a dumb comeback, I replied sarcastically, "I love you too, darling."

With this comment I watched him march away again with a smirk on my face, shaking my head and going back to putting away glittery T-shirts, unable to keep the grin off of my face. He was just too entertaining.

And to quell this need for more entertainment, as the store closed, I approached him again. I hadn't actually planned on doing anything, really, seeing as he was talking to Misa at that moment I was really only making to strike up some conversation. However as soon as I approached they both went completely silent, as if my presence made the subject taboo.

_Which means they were talking about either me or something I do… great._

"'Sup, hoes?" I greeted kindly, laughing as Matt flinched at the weird name I had given him. Honestly it was just a habit to greet people this way because of my years of working at Hot Topic and shady clubs (even L was used to it) but I still enjoyed the way he blushed at the greeting.

"Hi!" Misa squeaked chipper, clearly used to being called that.

"You are such a bitch," Matt growled instead of returning the reply, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff, green eyes flickering with irritation. I can tell by the expression on his face he's clearly still upset by me despite our friendly encounters yesterday (probably my own fault in retrospect) but somehow this doesn't throw me off.

"Ahw, Matty, thank you!" I purr graciously, laughing, "You're so damn funny!" Then, just for my own enjoyment, lean over and slap him on the butt, making him squeak at a high octave and jump forward, almost crashing straight into poor, struck-stupid Misa in his attempt to retreat from my hand.

Misa almost immediately turned tail and retreated, calling, "COSTOMER!" in a high pitched, embarrassed tone. In retrospect, it was probably one of the most intelligent things she'd ever done.

Matt snapped around to shoot a glare at me, this time the blush no longer present. I smirked back at him, twiddling my fingers in a small, teasing half-wave. Clearly not expecting him to do what he did next, which was to whip one hand forward and snatch my wrist, yanking me forward. I squeaked in protest and shock as he pulled me along, not caring that I stumbled as he pulled me into the employees only back-room, slamming the door behind him. A million kinky thoughts flooded my brain at this, of course, but they vanished at the cold glare he sent me when he turned around.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You about gave Misa a heart attack!" Matt hissed angrily. By the blush that was spreading across his face, Misa wasn't the only one, but I didn't comment on this - I was too shocked by the sudden aggressiveness Matt had just expressed. Instead of replying I grasped my wrist that he had pulled me by, rubbing the sore skin there - it was definitely going to bruise. The idea, though uncomfortable, was strangely compelling. _Well shit…_

Matt frowned and quirked an eyebrow, eyes trained on the space where I was rubbing on my wrist. Realizing quickly that I was probably just being a wimp - _it hurt more emotionally than physically, I think…_- I snapped my head upward to give him a look. I'm sure I must have looked sarcastic, because that's the way my voice came out. "You're such a baby. All I did was slap your ass."

He scowled at me. "Would you do that to _L?_" he shot back, irritation making his voice sound more high pitched than his usual deep tone. I laughed at this, but it would have come out as a giggle, so it would defeat the propose.

Instead, I retort, "Would you do that to your _sister?_" The words obviously caught him off guard because he looked as if he had just choked on something (can you choke on oxygen…?). After what I said seemed to set in his expression went from strangled to ready-to-strangle. Immediately, I explained, "L's like a brother to me, so no, I would _not _slap his ass."

Matt's face relaxed in understanding, but he still looked highly irked. "God, you freak…" he muttered, leaning on the wall and sending me a dirty look. "I hate you, you know that?"

_Hate me? _"Aww, that hurts me inside," I whine, sticking my tongue out at him. Strangely, in the back of my mind, I realize I'm only half kidding.

"Well, screw you," Matt muttered, opening the door and strutting out. I blinked in surprise and found myself following close behind, however, grabbing his sleeve just as he reached the counter. He spun around with irritation on his face. "What?"

_What indeed…?_

But my mouth answered the question for me, grabbing his sleeve with a desperate aura that I wasn't intending; but then, I didn't intend for any of this - my body was moving on it's own, just like every day lately. "Am I really that bad…?" I inquired unhappily, feeling a tiny bit of a blush appear involuntarily across my face. Inside, though, I was plotting.

Matt faltered at my apparently-irresistible expression, but clung to the threats of his resolve. "Yes, yes you are," he said uncertainly.

I pouted, releasing his sleeve and propping my hands indignantly on my hips. "Yeah? Well how would you know? Have you ever actually just sat down and talked to me, huh? It's not like we've actually hung out." Matt frowned thoughtfully, and I continued hastily in an irate tone, "I mean, who are you to judge my character? All I ever get the _chance _to do is tease you, you always run away whenever I even come near you in a _friendly _way. Gosh, what the-"

"Fine!" Matt snapped loudly, cutting me off. It was all I could do to hold back a smirk as he cried, "We'll go down to that stupid club downtown for all I care, okay! We'll have a goddamn sleepover! Then will you leave me alone, huh!"

I smile brightly and wink playfully, saying quickly, "Alrighty, then! I'll see you and your nice ass at the Death Note at 6 O'Clock tomorrow, okay? Its our day off, right? Right! It's a date!"

"Fine!" Matt shouted angrily, stomping his foot childishly. "6 PM!"

"Whatever you say," I purred.

Then I spun around and stalked away, sauntering off to continue to do my job and leaving him with the illusion that he had won the argument, a giant grin on my face as I passed through the swarm of giggling girls who had been watching us "argue".

_Just as planned._

At least, that's what I thought until Matt called brazenly, "But you've got to wear a dress, don't forget! Don't back out, _dear!_"

I froze, hairs raising on the back of my neck as the words sunk in.

_Alright… not as planned._

**Matt's POV**

I'm probably the most laidback, easy-going person you'll ever meet. Just throw me a bone(if you're not very smart, that also means a game) and I'd love you. Well, okay, so I mayn't really love you, maybe follow you around for a week or so, and eventually fade away again. Then again, that's not really relevant to what I'm trying to say here.

I can stand Mello. And by the way he was enjoying teasing the hell out of me, I was probably once of the only people who lasted this long. Unless he just enjoyed sexually harassing people in general, but I'm straying from the topic again. Every time Mello teased me, I managed to brush it off and think to myself, _He's gay and full of himself. It's his nature. _I'd nod at the reason and walk away.

But then I had that dream last night, which had not only frightened the crap out of me(Mello-headed bunnies, need I say more?), it also made me realize something.

I...was glad...that...Mello was gay.

When it first dawned on me, some girl was showing me her new shoes or something akin to that. It registered in my brain and my eyes widened, hand flying to my mouth, complete with an overdramatic gasp. The girl thought I was reacting to her shoes. She made a frustrated high pitched noise and stomped away.

I was glad Mello was gay...because at least I could be seen with someone who had a decent fashion sense. Yeah. That was it. I wasn't glad because I liked him or anything. I'm straight. Yep, that's me. Straight as a rainbow-

_Straight as a line,_ I mean.

_Denial_, a tiny annoying voice sang in my head.

I ignored that, deciding that I'd avoid Mello for the rest of the day until I sorted everything out. Sadly, that did not work so well, since he caught me once trying to sneak past him. After the usual pointless squabble that ended in me telling him I hated him and him telling me he loved me, too.

Fuck, why did I feel so happy when I heard that?

We didn't really run into each other after that, I made sure. Except, of course, the intentional brushes of our shoulders as the bastard sashayed past, smirking.

All right, I severely needed someone to vent to. So while L was closing down Justice, and everyone was getting ready to leave, I caught Misa. "Hey, Matty!" she greeted brightly, giving me a peck on the cheek like she did to practically everyone else, even strangers.

"Hi Misa," I said back, genuinely happy to see her. Something about having a conversation with another blond that didn't include comments about getting me in bed with them. "Listen, I need your help on something," I said. "Can we go to that coffee shop tomorrow at six?"

"Ohhhh, Starbucks?" Misa exclaimed happily. "Of course!" She giggled, adding in a lower voice, "And I'll be sure to help Matty's problem with Melly-chan."

I was chuckling at the repetition of the nickname until I realized that she'd caught on. "W-wha'?" I said in a strangled voice. It's easy to forget that Misa is actually smart, just that her love for fashion and this guy named Light prevents her from showing it.

Misa tilted her head to the side. "Aren't Matt and Melly-chan together? And they're going through a rough patch, so Matt wants advice from Misa-Misa!" she said, smiling wide.

"Me and Mello together?" I wasn't shocked at the fact that Misa could mistake mine and Mello's relationship to be anything sort of romantic, but at the fact that...I didn't mind it. "We're not," I said, my eyes straying to the other side of the store where Mello was putting on his leather jacket. "He just..." I stopped short when he began to walk towards us.

"We spoke of nothing!" I hissed quickly to Misa.

Misa nodded dutifully.

We were quiet by the time Mello reached us. I'm still a little absent minded, lost in the possible thoughts of me and Mello in a _relationship, _managing a snarky reply in there or two. What was the last straw, though, was when Mello laughed, "Aw, Matty, thank you! You're so damn funny!" and reached over, smacking my ass. I squeaked, instinctively moving forward to get away, but only succeeding in bumping into Misa and sending her scurrying away.

Like aforementioned, I'm laidback and easygoing, but...

I stared after Misa apologetically, then whirling around at the sound of Mello chuckling. I glared, abruptly grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the employee's only closet at the back. Once the door was shut, I snapped.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked angrily. "You about gave Misa a heart attack!" Mello didn't answer right away, instead rubbing his wrist from where I'd grabbed him. I faltered, trying to determine whether I'd actually injured him.

Five seconds later, cocky Mello was back. "You're such a baby. All I did was slap your ass," he said.

I could have clawed my eyes out. Or better yet, clawed _his _eyes out, because he obviously didn't see how his presence did to me. He had me questioning my sexuality, right along with seriously considering a relationship with him, when I know, judging by the handful of girls I'd dated in the past, that I'm straight.

I opted to put this feeling into a scowl, snapping, "Would you do that to L?"

Mello snorted. "Would you do that to your sister?" he countered easily.

My breathing hitched and I almost unleashed hell on him when I realized it wasn't his fault. He didn't know my sister was dead, he'd probably made an assumption when he saw the pictures back at my apartment.

"L's like a brother to me, so no, I would _not _slap his ass," Mello elaborated.

Oh. It made the sting dull a little, but I was still pissed. I leaned against the wall. "God, you freak," I huffed under my breath. Glaring at him for the umpteenth time, I said, "I hate you, you know that?"

"Aww, that hurts me inside," Mello replied sarcastically.

"Well, screw you," I said darkly, yanking the door open and walking outside. Just barely past the counter, I was stopped by, once again, Mello. "What?" I queried, really getting annoyed now.

"Am I really that bad?" Mello said in a tone that I couldn't identify. Probably because he'd never sounded like that around me before. His cheeks flushed slightly, metaphorically tripping me and making me fall flat on my face. Leave it to Mello to seem so bipolar.

"Yes, yes you are," I answered, trying to read him.

"Yeah?" Mello said, his voice getting louder as he talked. "Well how would you know? Have you ever actually just sat down and talked to me, huh? It's not like we've actually hung out." It was the last part that made me furrow my eyebrows.

He was right, unfortunately. We'd never really just sat down and talked. Gah, now I'm feeling bad...

Wait! This was Mello! It was probably some kind of evil little plan, I realized. Well, I wasn't as stupid as he thought. "Fine!" I interrupted loudly, resenting him for thinking that I was stupid. "We'll go down to that stupid club downtown for all I care, okay! We'll have a goddamn sleepover! Then will you leave me alone, huh!" I bit back a triumphant grin. Finally, I was winning.

A smile broke out on Mello's face. He winked. "Alrighty, then! I'll see you and your nice ass at the Death Note at 6 O'Clock tomorrow, okay? Its our day off, right?" Not letting me answer, he continued in a chipper voice, "Right! It's a date!"

"Fine!" I said, stomping my foot. "6 PM!" Yes, I'd won! I did a victory dance before making a mental note to call Misa and cancel tomorrow's original plans.

"Whatever you say," Mello said sweetly, flashing me a winning smile before striding away.

And it dawned on me. I'd fucking lost. That little son of a-

Hm, I might be able to salvage some of my pride here... "But you've got to wear a dress, don't forget!" I called after him, grinning broadly. "Don't back out," and just because I'm Matt, I added, "_dear!_"

I took in the way he froze with a relish. What, did he honestly think that he was that much smarter than me?

My mind shifted onto the topic of Mello in a dress. Unabashedly, I thought that it was going to be a sight to see. Besides, with me still being confused about my sexuality, I didn't honestly find a date with Mello comforting. But since he would probably able to pass for a girl...

I found myself grinning as I grabbed my vest on the way out, looking forward to our date.

**A/N: Hooray! Hope you liked the chapter. Also… don't you wish Misa was right? I do, anyway. Or would, if, you know, this wasn't my story and I didn't already know what was going to happen O BWAHAHAHA. …yeah. C:**

**~H and F**


	9. Embracing Your Feminine Side

**Matt's POV**

Mello in a dress.

Mello in a _dress._

_Mello_ in a _fucking dress._

No matter how many times I relived that moment - recalling Mello's shocked face and the sense of victory washing over me - I couldn't help but think that I lost to that blond after all. I knew that Mello wasn't going to back down - he was too prideful to do that, so that should've meant an automatic win for me... Except that, apparently, the anxiety of seeing Mello in a dress will do wonders to you.

For example: my dreams.

I had a very interesting sleep that night. Let's just say that instead of Mello-headed bunnies, it, instead, was one Mello in probably the most girliest attire you can ever imagine him. Black spaghetti strap dress that was cut short about mid-thigh, and on his left waist was a hole, leaving a considerable amount of tempting skin to be seen by anyone, paired with killer high heels that must have been at least four inches(at least it look like it to me...damn, how do those girls walk in those?) and the straps wrapped a couple of times up his ankle. And he was wearing make up. Plum eyeshadow, slightly pinkened cheeks, and- God, his lips. Some lipstick had been applied, but not so much like you'd probably see on other girls. It was just the right amount, making his mouth look utterly kissable.

And, get this. He was strutting towards me - strutting! - with this predatory smirk on his face, and when he reached me, I stood there like an idiot as he softly pressed his lips against mine.

Then I woke up in a cold sweat back in my bed, with wide eyes staring up at the ceiling. There was no Mello kissing me, no Mello in a dress and make up... Although that might just be the case tonight...

I rolled out of bed, finding that thought unusually nice as I padded to my kitchen to get some breakfast. I revised that thought when I saw the kitchen clock flashing 2:07 in green digits, thinking, Lunch, then.

I opened my refrigerator and took out a bagel(I'd managed to swing by Panera before I went home yesterday), unwrapped it, and stuck it in the microwave. I grabbed my cell phone from the counter as I punched in thirty seconds on the timer, then starting it.

I dialed Misa's number - still needed to cancel tonight's original plans - as I took out a plastic knife and some cream cheese. On second ring, Misa picked up, her cheery voice slightly crackling through the speaker. "Matty-chan!" she greeted.

"Hey Misa," I replied, holding the phone to my ear using my shoulder. I opened the microwave and took out the bagel. "Remember yesterday I said I wanted to meet tonight?" I asked as I opened the container of cream cheese and slathered a lot of it onto the pastry.

"Of course!" Misa exclaimed. "Misa never forgets a meeting with her friends!"

The sight of the cream cheese brought back an unnecessary flashback of Mello licking my cheek. "We're gonna have to reschedule," I said, my voice a little muffled through the piece of bagel I was chewing.

I could imagine Misa pouting. "But why? Matt never cancels," she said curiously.

"Yeah, sorry about that..." I trailed off, pondering whether or not to tell her about my date with Mello. Eventually, I thought, Why not? "Mello and I have a date."

"A date?" Misa shrieked on the other side.

I blinked, putting some distance between my ear and the receiver. I could hear Misa's excited tone beginning to blabber, "That's great, Matty! I knew you and Mello were together, I knew it!" Emphasis on the 'knew'. "What are you wearing? What are you going to do with your hair? Never mind, never mind, I'm coming over."

I quickly backtracked. "No, no! I'm just fine, I already know what to wear," I lied.

"Aw, is that so?" Misa said unhappily. "Describe your outfit to me, please."

"Remember that time you took me shopping for some new clothes?" I asked.

"Mm-hm," Misa replied.

"That white dress shirt, paired with dark jeans," I said, trying to recall whether or not it had been a black shirt or white. "And those new shoes. Yep, that's it."

"Good," Misa said, sounding satisfied. "Now, what kind of corsage are you bringing?"

"Corsage?" I asked exasperatedly. "Misa, we're going to club, not to prom."

Misa decided to take this chance to begin squealing again. "Matty and Melly-chan going to prom together! Aw, how cute!"

"Sure," I said, rolling my eyes. Though the image of Mello being at prom did sound appealing... "Can I eat my breakfast in peace now?"

"Breakfast? It's two o'clock, Matt," Misa said.

"Lunch, then. 'bye." I hung up before she could reply, not that she'd have minded. Misa was the type of person you can push off a cliff and have her return the next day in crutches, and she'd still be hugging.

My phone alerted me that I had a new message. Half-expecting it to be Mello, I opened up the text to find it was from Misa.

**Good luck on your date Matty! And tell Near i said hi, he said he'd b there at the club 2nite 2**

**xoxo,**

**Misa**

I had no idea why Near would be there. He wears pajamas, for goodness' sake...

I finished the rest of my bagel, sucking the cream cheese off of my fingers and completely dropping the matter. Near did whatever he wanted to do, whether that be visit a club or buy a pony to ride around town. Quickly washing my hands, I headed off to the living room to kill some time by playing video games. I did have Final Fantasy waiting to be finished.

So three hours later, I was gaming away when my phone vibrated in my pocket. With some difficulty(sometimes I got too addicted with my games), I saved my game and turned it off, taking out my phone. It was just the alarm I'd set to make sure I wouldn't forget about mine and Mello's date. Currently the time was 5:00 and I had...an hour.

Shit, I told myself I didn't want to have to hurry getting ready! But then again, why did I really care about looking good for Mello? I mean, after all, one wouldn't consider this a date, more like me being manipulated into going to one with Mello. Despite that, I realized that I did want to look good for Mello.

Feeling very confused, I dropped my controller carelessly on the couch and trotted off to my room, shredding my shirt on the way. A minute later, I'd stripped everything and was in the shower, using that strawberry shampoo that Mello seemed to like. Because I wanted to smell good for him. God, this is going to take some time for me to get used to.

After a ten minute shower(I'm not very keen on the conserving water thing), I got out, dried myself off, and began the task of looking for something to wear. It turned out that that wasn't easy as it sounded. I mean, I'd usually just grab the first shirt I see.

But I want to look good for Mello.

Hm, still need to get used to that.

I finally decided on a black-and-red striped shirt that was relatively new and some tight-fitting jeans. I'd been lying to Misa when I said I'd wear those clothes, I wasn't that dedicated to looking good for Mello. Besides, the collar of the shirt nearly choked me the first time.

I was strapping my boots on when I realized that I didn't know where Mello lived.

Okay, so I was picking him up, and I didn't know where he lived?

Checking to make sure I wasn't let yet, I finished putting my boots on and rummaged around my desk for an old phonebook. This city's version of one also listed addresses, so I figured Mello's address would be there.

Turned out, no one in the name of Mello lived around here.

I gave up after checking for the third time, throwing the phonebook on the couch and looked at the clock. I had fifteen minutes. Enough time to maybe drive around and see if he lived nearby...

Agreeing to that, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Thankfully I didn't step into a pile of cat poop on the way outside to my car. Moments later, I was trolling down the road, inspecting each and every parking space, trying to look for something that could resemble Mello living there. Next time I really should get his number.

Eventually, I caught sight of a familiar motorcycle parked in front of another apartment perhaps five blocks away from mine. Not entirely sure, I parked my car beside the motorcycle and got out, walking to the door. I rang the doorbell, running a hand through my hair. No matter how hard I'd tried, it had been untameable, but at least I didn't look that bad.

The moment the door was opened, I knew that this was Mello's apartment, all right. Because after all, how many guys wearing dresses live around here?

**Mello's POV**

It's something that preppy girls and Queen-type gay-men all encounter at one point in their lives, possibly very many times in their lives. It tends to hit the more fashionable of them in the face like a mis-thrown dodge ball, or at least, that has been my experience. It was something that hit me hard for several reasons: one, because I always thought that I had a considerably good wardrobe, and two, because I never really considered myself a Queen despite my flaming gayness. In any case, the realization hit me hard.

_I have nothing to wear._

Well, I mean, I guess it was rather obvious I wouldn't have a dress in my closet. But as I pulled open the closet (whose door was off its hinges by now, by the way) it still came as a strange kind of surprise to me that what I wanted wasn't there. Usually it was just 'leather, leather, more leather, kkthnxbai' but not that day.

That day I needed to look like a girl.

Insert internal shudder here.

In any case I shut my closet and stormed out of my apartment, threw myself onto my motorcycle, and raced to the mall, throwing myself at the first Express store I saw.

I loved Express. Okay, the only men who bought anything there were gay, and okay, it was mostly for women, but I was gay and I needed to shop in the girl's section anyway. So thus I semi-self-consciously slid through the girl's isles in search for dresses.

It occurred to me that I had never dress shopped before, and for some reason this idea also unsettled me, though I'm pretty sure it was the fact I was doing it now that bothered me more than the fact I hadn't before this.

Either way, I didn't know what the hell I wanted to wear.

"Fucking retarded…" I muttered to myself, "Stupid Matt and his perverted mind… making me wear a dress…" Ok, so I was the pervert, but shut up.

Eventually I just resort to yanking various dresses off of the racks and slinging them over my arm to try on, a flutter of annoyance going through me - to think I'd actually have to try them on. The idea was creepy.

Apparently the sales lady thought so too, because she was eyeing me from across the room with a look on her face that read 'I just ate a lemon.' Or maybe 'I'm a prick and I'm going to go confront this random man who is trying on girls clothes because this is against my morals.' Either way she approached me, that stupid pinched-up look on her ugly face, and I turn to look at her. "May I help you ma'm?" I inquire in a sarcastic tone, though the question is more me being automatic from working at Justice than me being clever.

The woman scowls and cuts right to the point. "Sir, why are you picking out… dresses? Not to pry or anything." Her voice is shrill and nasally, both at once, and highly annoying. Somehow, said voice pisses me off enough to go all bitchy-gay-man on her ass.

"Not to pry? Not to pry?" I snarl, narrowing my eyes at her. My voice sounds venomous even in my own ears, and she startles, jumping a bit in surprise. "That the exact definition of prying, what you are doing right there, miss. So please kindly bug off and let me shop for…" my date "…my sister if I want to, bitch-face."

Okay, so I could have been more proud of myself and my right to buy a dress for myself if I damn want to, but I really wasn't. I mean, I'm proud of any drag queen/ cosplayer/ transie / whatever who isn't afraid to admit it to the general public, but I'm none of those things. I'm just wearing it to please the guy who I tricked into going on a date with me. So no, I am not proud of myself.

The woman pales and scampers away, clearly either ashamed of herself or has seen through my act and too disgusted with me to speak. I don't really mind either way, as long as I don't have to listen to her annoying voice anymore.

Trying on the dresses is awkward. When I walked into the men's dressing room carrying those dresses, the woman working there looked at me like I had two heads, and the lady beside me in line to get my stupid room-assignment looked at me like I had just stepped out of her wildest sexual fantasy. Maybe I kind of did… which would be creepy, but as long as she's not trying to peek into my stall, what do I care?

I was rambling again. I do that when I'm uncomfortable, I think, which isn't a whole lot often but it does happen occasionally, believe it or not, and right then… now… I'm defiantly rambling. Shit.

The first dress, however pretty it was, didn't fit right. My hips didn't curve correctly against the skirt part, and the chest fit awkwardly. I tossed it away and tried again, only to get the same effect with the next two dresses. Clearly, these garments were not meant to fit men. Somehow, this realization was painful - I had always resented that I didn't look like a girl, but because of this fact I had kind of been hoping the femininity would let me fit into anything I wanted. Apparently this was not the case.

Then I tried on the last one.

"Well, shit," I muttered, staring at myself in the mirror. The dress was different from the other two, fit me better. Tight black top-half but with enough slack to not quite notice the masculinity of my chest, opening into pleated ruffles below the waist, hiding any real evidence of my man-parts, but falling against my back enough to show off my butt. My legs, which are always devoid of leg hair (no, before you ask, I do not shave, I just have a strange inability to have any decent amount of hair other than on my head - I don't know why, it must be a genetic thing, though I never knew my father, so how should I know?) are exposed all below from where the dress cuts off, which is right above my knees. When I spin around I can see my back, which shows off my annoyingly feminine shoulder blades with the open back, which dips down rather flirtatiously but not enough to show my ass or anything.

Looking straight at myself again, I realize. I look like a girl. Even my face, with a bit of makeup, will manage to be like a girls. A slightly masculine girl, but a girl.

Well, a flat chested girl. I briefly considered getting one of those little insert things that make you look like you have boobs, my hands grazing over my very-flat chest as I thought this, but my mind immediately rejected the idea. It would be gross and weird to feel like I had… boobs. Shudder. I don't even like those on girls. So no, I would just look like a very pretty, flat-chested girl.

I don't even have to make an excuse about my hair, either - it's the right length to be a girl's, cutting off at about shoulder length. If I brush it out just perfectly and put in some barrettes or something, I might even-

…_Was I seriously just thinking about passing fora girl just for Matt? Do I honestly like him that much to attempt that?_

_Um, yes,_ the annoying voice in my head decided to reply. _Yes, you did. And yes - you do._

I guess the voice in my head was right, because here I was in front of my cracked full-length bathroom mirror, putting on mascara. It was surprisingly a lot easier to pull off buying the makeup for my sister than me buying the dress from my sister (shocker) but that's not what goes through my mind as I attempt not to poke my eye out with the makeup utensil. My thoughts are also not on weather or not my blue eyes pop with the mascara (they do).

What's going through my mind is what Matt will think when he sees me. Sees the so-dark-blue-it-could-be-black dress I'm wearing, and the way it twirls around me when I turn and move. When he sees how I put earrings on, the little clip-on kind that look real but aren't. How I put little black barrettes in my hair to pull my bangs away from my face, which is dappled with makeup but not too much makeup, just mascara and lipstick and a touch of blush. I wonder if he'll notice that I put away my rosary for today and put on a little black choker, and maybe he'll notice that I'm wearing little black ballet flats that I managed to snag from my neighbor after fluent begging (I bought heels at the store, but I realized quickly I can't walk in them to save my life). I wonder what he'll think.

I have to admit, I'm pretty damn drop dead gorgeous. And if he doesn't drop dead from my gorgeousness, I hope he drops dead from how shocking it is, at least, so I can pretnds its because he thinks I'm beautiful. Because that would make me feel ni-

Shit I'm thinking like a girl again.

I promptly beat my fist into the wall in a very manly fashion, and yell at no one in my most many voice, "FUCK YOU, I AM NOT A GIRL," then stomp through the house like a melodramatic teen girl- err, I mean, pissed of manly-man. Dude. Man. Guy.

I hope, in the back of my mind, that in all the action I didn't mess up my hair.

Two things occur to me as I sit on my couch, staring at my apartment door.

The first thing that comes to me is that I don't have to do this. That I have no real reason to be trooping out and dressing up like a chick just for some random redhead I met working at Justice, and certainly not just because he childishly told me not to chicken out on his last-second challenge. I really have no reason to really attempt to look like a girl, to pass as a woman, just so Matt won't be humiliated if he sees anyone he knows at the Death Note. I have no reason to be so concerned about what Matt thinks about me an my unnecessary chick-costume because it doesn't matter what he thinks - this wasn't even a real date, because I had tricked him into it, and because he doesn't even like me. In fact, I don't even like him. I mean, what self-respecting gay man falls for a straight guy who runs from him when he approaches?

_You?_

The second thing that occurs to me is that he doesn't know where I live. I never told him. Somehow, it had never actually occurred to me to give him my address.

But then, he never gave me his, either, so we didn't exactly have an exchange. But I still found his apartment. I smirk. He can find mine too.

Of course, I come to this decision not only because I'm a snaky bitch, but also because I'm kind of hoping he won't be able to find me. That maybe he'll just give up and go home, so I won't be reduced to this humiliation of being in a dress, and so I won't have to worry about accidentally snapping and making out with him or, worse yet, raping his ass. So I won't have to worry about falling for him even more than I accidentally already have, so I won't have to be scared of accidentally hurting him once I get attached. So I wont have to-

I groan and flip over on the couch, struggling to find a comfortable position to sit in the stupid dress. How do girls wear these things, anyway? I think irately, flopping back against the extremely-uncomfortable couch.

Just when I get comfortable, of course, the doorbell rings.

Feeling very much like a little girl I immediately leap to my feet, excitedly bopping over to the door with a bounce in my step. I immediately struggle to compose myself inside the door, sucking in a deep breath and putting on my best irritated-but-sexy face. Err. I mean. Irritated-and-so-do-not-even-want-to-be-here face. Right.

I open the door to find Matt standing there, and I don't think that the irritated expression lasts more than a few seconds.

He looks fucking adorable. He still looked just like him, of course, but cute. Like he really tried this morning. He's wearing a much-tighter-than-usual black-and-red striped shirt that looked just about new, which I could tell was the tiniest bit too long on him because he had cuffed it around his wrists, which I found strangely adorable. Also… god, those pants he was wearing. Well shit, I didn't think it was possible, but his ass looked even better than usual in those pants. God bless skinny jeans. His hair still looked messy, but somehow I fell in love with the fact that it was still left unruly, as if it simply couldn't be tamed from it's boyishly-mussed state. It didn't look bad - it looked adorable, actually.

Also, that bundle of adorable-and-sexy was staring at me through his goggles, and I could tell by his wide eyes that he was shocked by my appearance as well. I was about to make a snaky comment about the way he was eyeing me, probably something about so do I make a nice woman, Nice Ass? when he suddenly blurts out, "You look really nice." The way he says it reminds me of those first-prom-date lines, and I find a blush threatening to flare up on my cheeks just as it appears to burn on his own.

_Ew. Fluff._

"You look damn sexy yourself," I purr, striding past him and semi-casually slapping him on the butt on my way past. He squeaks in protest, immediately back to his old flustered self, leaping forward and spinning around to glare half-heartedly at me. I only snicker and go over to the car. "Do I get to drive?"

"Um, no," Matt says flatly, hurrying over and, slightly to my surprise and almost-flattery, opens the passenger door for me with a smirk on his face. "You're the woman, remember? You get shotgun. I'm the man, I get to drive the car."

"Don't be sexist," I grumble, which only makes Matt laugh. Well, I guess he has rights to laugh at such a stupid comment as that, but still.

Matt climbs in beside me, an awkward look on his face. He keeps trying to act like he's very focused on getting his car in gear, but he keeps glancing over at me, eyes slightly glassy. I knew I was drop dead gorgeous, I think victoriously, sending him a smirk when he glances at me a third time; he startles slightly and starts the car, quick to drive us out of the lot. I lean back against the seats of the car and admire the interior as we drive.

After a few minutes, Matt says, "I honestly didn't think you'd actually wear it." He sounds amused but strangely pleased.

I snicker, slinging my arms behind my neck and grinning. "Aren't you pleased?"

"Yes. No." Matt scowls. "No matter what I say you'll use it against me."

I smile at him, tilting my head so that I can look his way. He looks flustered as I reply coyly, "Yep." While he makes his cute little I-am-pouting face I flick on the radio, only to have it tune in to Miley Cyrus' 7 things I hate about you.

Matt immediately emit's a shriek, something that could have broken the eardrums of a small dog had I happened to be carrying one. "TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF! I HAVE ENOUGH AT WORK!" he shouts at me, voice wavering at what I assume to be his top octave.

I laugh at his quite amusing reaction but I can't help but agree with him, flipping through the stations again. After going through quite a few stations that are either bad reception, a bad song, or both, I finally settle on Love Song by Sara Bareilles. When I lean away from the radio on the song, Matt smiles and muses, "This song is so overplayed."

I shrug, smiling myself. "It's good though," I remind him thoughtfully, swiping a strand of escaped hair around my ear. "Sara's got a nice voice. Nice lyrics too.""Hmm," is Matt's only reply, and he sounds distant, as if Sara Barellies and her nice voice is the last thing he really wants to be talking about. But as he does this, it occurs to me that I really have no fucking idea what to talk to him about - the only real conversations we've had together have been about his ass, me being a stalker, his crazy neighbor, and my pants. Oh, and we might have had a small conversation about him being a good housewife, but that's pretty much connected into me being a stalker in any case. As this occurs to me, I feel a sigh escape my lungs, throaty and much louder than what I wanted it to be.

Matt looks over at me, a reluctantly curious look in his eyes even behind the goggles. "Um…" he says brilliantly. Then, "I don't know where to go."

I frown. "You've never been there before?"

"No."

Insert overdramatic shock face, complete with a delicate hand to the mouth. "Not once?"

"No."

"Don't even know where it is?"

Matt looks slightly irritated now, a dry look sliding across his face. "No, Mello, I do not, thus why I am asking you directions. If I knew, I wouldn't ask. Now, please….""Left here," I snap back, rolling my eyes. Honestly I was only surprised that he'd never heard of it - I had grown up my entire life wanting to go to that place thanks to the older kids across the street always talked about so exuberantly, and as soon as I turned thirteen I bribed Richard to drive me there, so I could check it out. I was an old looking 13 year old, looked about sixteen, and the bartenders at the Death Note… well, they're not picky. So, at thirteen, I managed to get completely hammered and party like a maniac, and… well, long story mooted, I'm just… not going into that story.

"Now take a right," I told him as we reached yet another intersection; he did as he was told, though he still looked slightly weirded out. It was probably because I was, you know, in a dress. And a guy. I wanted to huff in irritation - you were the one who made me wear this! - but I didn't, instead flashing him a happy smile when he glanced at me. Somehow, I wanted - needed - him to like me, at least in a friendly way. "Just keep going straight then turn left when you see the big sign for the Drugs and CO, it's the club behind that."

Matt nods to me once, then seems to hesitate and look at me strangely. "This isn't, like, a gay bar, is it?" he asks hesitantly, a metaphorical sweat drop running down his forehead. I want to face palm myself or something, but that would be melodramatic, so instead I only scowl at him.

"Of course it's not, dumbass, Misa had heard of it, remember?" I chastise, shaking my head as if I can't believe that had just come out of his mouth. He blinks, seeming to realize I was right, a blush falling over his cheeks. "Why, afraid someone you know will spot you at a gay bar with a cosplayer?"

Matt blushed again, this time much worse than before. "N-n-….yes," Matt mutters admittedly, shrugging his shoulders. Well at least he admits it… "I just don't want them to think I'm gay," he tells me awkwardly, fingering the wheel in an unsettled fashion as he parks the car outside the club. I feel a blush fall over my cheeks, not because I was just thinking that I wished he was gay, but because I can remember the feeling myself. Not wanting to be labeled a certain sexuality (even if it was true), not wanting people to think I was a freak. Of course, this only lasted until I was age fourteen in which I promptly just came out in the middle of gym class by making out with Chris Harway on a whim (he was cute, but not the best kisser).

Weird how memories come back when you least expect them.

"Well, don't worry about that," I find myself telling him, brushing my hair once again around my ear. "I look enough like a chick, don't I? It's not like any of your friends will be there anyway."

Matt nods, putting the car in park. The song that had been playing, _Thanks for the Memories _by Fall Out Boy, cuts off mid-chorus as the car shuts off. As it does, he asks, "And if they are there?"

I blush, thinking it over. The answer comes out of my mouth before I have time to think it over. "Then I guess I pretend to be a chick and you hope like hell I pass," I tell him bluntly. Matt blushes again - he's so cute when he does that - and opens the door, escaping the car. I would have gotten out to follow, except he rounds the car and opens my door for me. The words such a gentlemen cross my mind, but I don't voice them. Instead I step out of the car and inquire a bit stupidly, "Do I pass?"

Matt gave me a hard look, one that read what the hell do you want me to say to that question? When I only looked at him in a way that hopefully said whatever you say I probably won't be mad… or will but what the hell. After a momentary stare down, Matt proceeded to blush deeply again and mutter, "Yeah, you do…" When it was my turn to blush, and then slap his shoulder irately, he continued, "But your voice gives you away."

I smile sarcastically at him, adjusting myself and swallowing periodically before whispering, in my most feminine, sultry voice, "Is this better, love? Or do you want me to sound less sexy?" right into his ear, so that I'm sure he feels my breath on his skin.

Matt's blush now rivals his hair. "N-no," he squeaks. "That voice is good."

I smirk. "That's what I thought," I muse, following him a little behind as he scampered towards the club, clearly unnerved. I claim a personal victory for myself: I now officially had a sexy woman-voice.

…_.Wait a second._

"ID?" the doorman inquired to Matt as soon as he reached the door of the club, blocking him side handedly. Usually the guy doesn't stop you unless you either look or act like a kid; Matt didn't look anything like a kid, but he was scampering in that kiddy fashion since he was so unnerved by my appearance. The redhead looks up at him with slight panic and I realize he might not be quite twenty-one yet (I'm not either).

Immediately I slink forward and grab Matt semi-delicately around the waist, peeking up at the guard as I say (in the sexy-woman voice), "What's the problem, Matty? Did you forget your ID at home?" I try my best to sound coy and troubled, fluttering my eyelashes once or twice for effect. Matt looks like he's either flustered by me suddenly trying to back him up or the fact that my hand is undeniably close to his crotch with my arm curled around his waist like that.

I quickly move my hand away from that general area just as the doorman says, "Well, alright, if the lady says so." He says it in that way that reads more 'if I were your age' rather than 'I want to hit that', which is good considering the guy looks to be about forty and I'm only barely twenty. Either way, though, the man ushers us through.

The room, as always, is dim-lighted, but not so much that I have to squint to see after the first few seconds inside. Mainstream rock music pounds in my ear, something Fall Out Boy if I'm correct, and people are packed into the dance floor, bouncing and dancing about in a wave of excitement and energy, the beat of the music moving the crowd. We headed first for the bar, however; I immediately wedged myself into a seat, glancing at Matt to make sure he was sitting beside me. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd of people with some mixture of anxiety and thrill before sitting beside me.

"You want something to drink?" I ask him, waving over the bartender, who strolls over almost immediately - apparently he's not too busy yet. Matt nods and mutters 'just sprite'. I nod and turn around in the bar, telling the waiter, "I need one tequila and one sprite." Leaning forward a bit, I murmur a bit too loudly, "And spike the sprite."

Matt squeaks in protest, clearly hearing what I said, but the waiter does as he's told. Good boy. I tilt my head to look at the silently pouting Matt beside me, a scowl crossing his face. I smile. "You look cute when you pout."

He scoffs, but the cute pouting face remains. "I don't drink," he informs me.

I roll my eyes, twirling around in the chair and leaning back against the bar; I'm crossing my legs because of the dress, which is strangely very comfortable though I really have to remember not to get too used to that seeing as that's how women sit. "Well, you do now," I tell him blatantly, smirking at him. When he still looks unsettled, I add, "You'll be glad you did. You only have to drink a few, ok? It's not like we're going to drive while you're still drunk." The smirk widening on my face I lean forward and prod my finger into his thigh, winking at him. "You're here to party, ho."

"Ho?" Matt echoes stupidly, but the pout vanishes, leaving an equally adorable, slightly unnerved smile to play across his face. It takes quite a lot to remind myself that I don't want a relationship with him when faced with a smile like that, especially with my hand still lingering on his thigh, but I don't let it get to me. When I don't elaborate on the "ho" comment he utters a laugh. "Alrighty, well, partying it is, then."

I brighten up immediately, spinning and snatching our drinks off the bar, handing Matt his special-sprite. "Here you go, Nice-Ass," I quipped, smiling.

Matt rolls his eyes and takes the drink, sipping it thoughtfully before replying, "Thanks a ton, he-she."

"He-she?" I echo dumbly.

He shrugs, holding back a smile behind his masked straight-face as he sips his drink. "Or Dude-Woman, if you prefer."

I frown. "Dude-woman?" I echo again. I feel stupid for simply repeating his words, though, so I cut off his possible reply with, "Let's just go with 'Mello', seeing as I'm a girl, remember?"

Matt smiles weakly. "Right." The look on his face tells me that something is irking him in the back of his mind, but I can't tell what by the way he's acting; either way, I don't like it. I don't want him to be irked about anything while I'm with him, not today, so I try and cheer him up, putting my drink back down on the bar and jumping off the barstool.

"Come on, Matty," I chirp in an uncharacteristically joyful way, grabbing the hand that isn't holding special-sprite. "I love this song. Let's dance." I tug on his hand, shooting him a grin. "It'll be fun."

Matt stares at me for a moment, then at my dress, then at the dance floor, then back to me again. His gaze is blank. "I can't dance," he tells me awkwardly.

I shrug, tugging on his hand again; I'm not giving up, especially now that the music has gotten good and I'm in the mood to dance now that I'm up. "Neither can I. Come on, just let the music guide you," I insist, grabbing his drink out of his hand and putting it back on the bar.

Matt still doesn't seem too happy with the idea, even as I pull him to his feet he hangs back. "I don't know," he grumbles. "I don't like dancing. And besides, you're…" he pauses, a blush falling over his cheeks. I pause, bewilderedly giving him a chance to finish the sentence before I implode, but he doesn't take the opportunity, instead only staring at me silently, waiting for me to be pissed.

Somehow, even though I should have been at least a little offended, I'm only slightly hurt. This is your fault, you know. That he's uncomfortable with you.

Just as this thought crosses my mind, someone explodes into view and tackle-glomps Matt. I squeak in surprise, watching with slight interest as the brunette girl clings excitedly around Matt's neck, speaking a million miles a minute. "Oh-my-gosh-Matt-it's-been-forEVER-since-I've-seen-you-how-have-you-been-oh-my-GOD-Matt-you-look-so-hot-you-haven't-dressed-up-in-for-EVERRR-oh-my-gosh!" Literally, no exaggeration: she had no time to breathe between those words; this was demonstrated by the way she had to stop and gasp for air after she finished her obnoxiously long statement. I recognize her as the girl (whose name I can never remember unless I'm reminded) who works with us but has a different shift most of the time… what was her name…. Laura…. Lenny… Lucy?

"Hello to you too, Linda (so that's her name)," Matt replies bluntly. I watch, bewildered, as he looks at her with a dull, forced smile. She's still clinging to him, but now she's latched onto his arm, and her boobs are pressing against his side. Briefly, I think, _would he like me better if I had those?_

Woah-woah-woah, WHAT THE FUCK, THOUGHTS?

Before I can beat the shit out of myself (literally or metaphorically) a familiar face suddenly shows up. Said face that is annoying, pale, and sheep-like. And creepy. And much more familiar than I wished it was.

"Greetings, Matt. How are you this evening?" If you hadn't already guessed, the person who was speaking and had just appeared was Near. I mean seriously, if you didn't already guess that, you're some sort of retarded - who else fits that description AND talks that? Really?

"Err, hi Near," Matt laughed half-heatedly, trying his best to casually yank Linda off of his arm. The brunette releases her death-grasp, but she doesn't seem pleased about it.

"Yo, fuck-face, how are you doing today in your little asshole world?" I say. At least, that's what I wished I had said, except if I had, it would have given me away to the little sheep twit and I really do not want him knowing its me in this dress, for obvious reasons as well as that I don't want Matt being embarrassed by anyone but me.

So instead, I put on my sweetest smile and raise a falsely-delicate hand for him to shake, purring, "Hi there, I'm Melanie." I do my best to make my voice as sultry and, to my horror, flirtatious as possible. "But you can call me Mel if you want."

Near studies me for a moment, his eyes wandering down my body then to my face again; the look he gives me immediately makes me feel awkward and exposed, like he can see through my clothes. Clearly he can't, though, because a strange little out-of-place-looking smile appears on his face and he takes my outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, Mel," he says in his monotone voice. To my shock and inward-horror, he draws my hand in and kisses it on the knuckles, something normally I might see as gentlemanly but instead only view as creepy and wrong.

I try not to let this show, though, giving him the best smile I can muster on a whim. Beside me, Matt looks stunned, green eyes glazed over with rapid thoughts; Linda looks like she wants to be somewhere else, and keeps glancing at the dance floor. Near looks… err, well, however a Near looks.

Somehow I manage a giggle, drawing my hand away. "Same for you… Near, was it?" I inquire coyly, pretending to be studying him even though I've already known him for a long time because of the University. Near stares at me blankly, as this is his normal expression.

"Yes, Near is what most call me," he confirms. Then, to my slight shock, he smiles at me again and whispers, "But you can call me Nate. People I like always call me Nate."

I honest-to-godly want to scream and kick him in the shins, shouting "IM MELLO YOU DUMBASS" at the top of my lungs. Near flirting with me? WRONG.

But somehow I don't. Not because I like the flirting, not because I care, but because Matt is giving me the first actual caring expression he's thrown me all day. He looks… almost jealous. Maybe not quite, maybe just stunned, but close enough to jealous to lead me to believe maybe he likes me more than he should.

So instead of starting some melodrama (ha-ha) I insert another giggle, fake-shyly brushing my hair around my ear; I'm pretty sure I'm even forcing out a blush. "Well then, Nate it is," I reply through a girly little giggle. (It makes me a bit sad to admit I can utter such a sound, but I can…)

"Um…." Matt says brilliantly.

I shoot him a 'just-a-second' look, though I feel a bit bad about the way he flinches because of it, and look back at Near. He still looks blank, but this is good, because at least then I can't read his emotions enough to know weather or not he's really hitting on me (thus, I'm not as creeped out).

Suddenly Near shuffles forward a bit, leaning in slightly. Realizing he wants to whisper something to me I bend over, careful not to let my skirt flip up (weird, weird, and more weird…) so that his mouth is close to my ear. I suppress a shudder as I feel his lips brush my ear slightly as he whispers, "I know you're a boy."

Well fuck. At least he didn't seem to figure out exactly WHICH boy….

I manage to make a tiny little giggle, as if he'd just whispered a flirt to me, and stood straight again, giving him a soft smile. "You're so silly, Nate," I laugh, hoping it doesn't sound fake. "You shouldn't say things like that about Matt, he's my friend you know."

Near shrugs, seeming to have no problem going along with it. "It's true, though, you know. Pretty girls like you should have all the facts before they go around with guys like him," he replies bluntly, giving me a hard look. Then he smiles that weird grin again. "Want me to buy you a drink?"

Is he still hitting on me, or is he acting? I wonder in the back of my mind, deeply concerned. Maybe Near was gay, but that's just…

"Thanks, Nate, but I've already got half of one waiting for me at the bar," I tell him brightly, patting him on the head (his hair is damn soft…) and then look at the dance floor. "Besides, I want to dance. I love this song," I add cheerfully, though it's a lie - I don't know this song. I do want to dance, though.

"Um?" Matt asks again brilliantly. Linda has vanished from his side, seeming to have found better things to do.

Near gives me a drier-than-usual look. "I don't dance."

Thank god. "Your loss, honey-bun," I purr, giving him a wink before striding past him towards the mass of dancing clubbers. I spare Matt a glance over my shoulder, willing him silently to follow me and dance along with me. He doesn't. He simply stares at me as I stride away to join the mass of dancers.

I allow myself to fall into rhythm on the dance floor automatically, letting the hammering beat of the music rule me. I let it take over my mind and my body, and I don't think. Not about how Matt let me go off by myself without a word, not about how I must have been imagining how Matt was jealous, not about how the date would be after this and how it would probably never happen again, not about how the stranger behind me was grinding me to the beat. I just let myself dance for several songs length, not expecting myself to fall out of that energy anytime soon.

So I was surprised when suddenly a hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the flow.

**Matt's POV**

I'm going to regret saying this, but shit...

Mello plus dress equals Matt possibly inching closer to being gay. Yeah, I admit it, okay? I'd care more, but I think I'm too busy staring to notice... "You look really nice," I admitted, before becoming slightly flustered. _That was an accident. I wasn't paying attention. Mello's looking really sexy right now, but that's only because he's in a dress, because I'm straight, and I like girls, and girls wear dresses, so if Mello's wearing a dress and _- fuck, make up? -_ then it's only natural for me to think he looks good. Not that he does in general. Because he's a guy. I'm straight. I'm straight. I'm Matt, the super-straight guy who does not date psychotic blonds who like my ass, because I'm straight, straight, straight-_

"You look damn sexy yourself," Mello informed me in a casual voice(but I swear I can hear a smirk...) before walking past and slapping my arse.

I made a noise of protest, turning to give him a glare. The bastard merely chuckled at my demise. "Do I get to drive?"

"The dude always drives, so since you're the chick, no," I almost said, stopping myself just in time. I think Mello would have castrated me if I'd said that. So I rephrased, "Um, no. You're the woman, remember?" Eh...better than chick, at least... "You get shotgun." I opened the passenger door for him, smiling sweetly. "I'm the man, I get to drive the car." I said the last part with a relish, but Mello apparently didn't catch it.

"Don't be sexist," he mumbled. I couldn't help but laugh, shutting the passenger door once he was inside, then climbing in the other side. Chivalrous, that was me.

The drive to Death Note was most_ interesting_. Of course, that's if you like your morning coffee with a hint of me not knowing where the hell Death Note was, and Mello having to direct me, while I sat there feeling younger. Well, I am probably younger, but still. My point stands.

So about, like, fifteen minutes later, we finally got inside after a short little interruption near the entrance(oh god, Mello, please do not ever use that voice again) and Linda tackling/glomping/crushing me, we met a certain little sheepy...

Sigh. Use his name in a sentence and he shall appear. Insert exasperated face here.

"Err, hi Near," I said, trying to be casual in prying Linda off of my arm. My eyes flickered to Mello, and I swear he had this strained look on his face, as if he was trying hard not to say something.

Then the he-she suddenly purred, "Hi there, I'm Melanie."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. It's that voice-oh god I'm _meltiiiiing-_

I peered at Near's face to see his reaction, watching as a little smile graced his features and he clasped Mello's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mel." He brought Mello's hands to his lips, and kisses it.

"What the fuck, Near? Can't you see we're _together_?" I almost shrieked. I didn't really, because Near had no way of knowing that Mello-err, Melanie- had come here together on a date, so that would be unfair. Unless the bastard does know and is doing this on purpose.

"People I like always call me Nate," Near was saying, with that little smile still on his face.

My fingers twitched in irritation. Where is the decency these days? Can't a regular guy go on a date with another guy - um, another guy in a dress - without having said guy-in-a-dress being flirted with by one of the first guy's friends?

"Well then, Nate it is," Mello said, and released a little girly giggle.

Okay. Now that's just sad. Mello should only giggle for me.

Erm. Not that he has to - I mean, I don't own him obviously - Besides, I don't think I even want to own him - (Liar, a little voice sing-songed in my head) - And I'm straight. Yep, that's me.

I just wish Near would back off...and maybe fall into a gigantic human shredder. Ohhhh, I'd love to see that. Or, he can be pushed into a giant blender, then skewered to pieces, and he can be the shredded ice(because he's all white, get it? Get it? Ge- Oh, never mind) on a snow cone and served to several people. Of course, Mello and I wouldn't eat him, because:

1) That would mean he'd be with us everywhere, at home, in the bathroom, in the shower

2) Mello and I would be too busy sharing spaghetti, like in one of those cheesy romance movies where the two people have the same spaghetti noodle, but they don't realize it as they're getting closer to each other's lips, and they startle when they realize they're kissing, though eventually they begin to enjoy it, and-

"Besides, I want to dance," Mello said, breaking into my thoughts. "I love this song."

"Um," I said intelligently, still stuck up on the fact that Mello had just patted Near's head, and _why can't he pat my head?_

Mello didn't seem to see the thought in my eyes, telling Near something that I refused to hear(because I'm sure it was another flirty exchange, and I'd had enough of that) before emerging into the mass of grinding bodies. Momentarily, I worried for Mello; god knows how many rapists hang out here.

I sneaked a glance at Near and had to look back away quickly when I noticed his sour look, obviously directed at me. Well. What was he so angry about?

"Um," I said for the millionth time that day. "Misa says hi," I offered awkwardly.

Near was back to his expressionless self, though there was a bit of anger reflected in his black eyes. "Near says you should go get your _girlfriend_ before that man over there takes her home." The emphasis on 'girlfriend' made me wonder whether he knew that Mello was really a boy or not. I didn't have time to ask, or do anything else, because he said, "I'll be getting back to Linda now."

I watched him for a few seconds as he walked away, before my eyes returned to the dance floor, frantically searching for Mello. Surely he wouldn't dance with a random-stranger-possible-rapist, right? Right?

Fuck. He was.

Golden hair flew from side to side as Mello swayed his hips to the beat, not seeming to mind the guy behind him.

I silently willed him to turn and come back to my side - to drag me to the floor, to tease me, anything. Frankly, seeing him dance with someone else made my blood boil.

I'm not jealous.

I just -

- don't want him to be raped. Yes. Of course. Isn't that what L is always telling us? 'Look after your co-workers' or something? And I wouldn't be a good co-worker if I let Mello be hurt…

_You're jealous_, a tiny voice in my head chanted. _Jealous, 'cuz you're gay! You're GAY FOR MELLO!_

I whimpered, pinching my wrist in an attempt to shoo the treacherous voice away. Wasn't your conscience supposed to be on your side?

Since I'm a genius and all, I turned around, fully intending to finish my drink. And maybe Mello would finally have noticed the guy practically molesting him when I turn back around… Yeah, it sounded good.

So I finished my drink, according to plan, the whole time restraining myself from glancing over my shoulder and checking on Mello. Aren't you proud?

Eventually, though, my self-restraint melted away completely and I finally turned. To see that Mello was still dancing with the stranger. Only now the dark-haired dude had this look in his eyes, as if Mello was a piece of meat, and he was starving...

Jesus. Fucking _scary._

An overwhelming sense of possessiveness took over me. I sniffed indignantly(really, it was just for effect), raising my chin and striding to Mello, shoving people out of the way. "Excuse me," I purred sweetly my Mello's molester. After glaring poisonously at the guy, I grabbed Mello's wrist and pulled him out of the mass of grinding bodies, off to the side. Mello was looking at me with a slight pout on his face.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding irritated.

Then I felt guilty. What was I going to tell him? "I'm jealous of you dancing with that other guy, and I want you to dance with me instead?"

Mello put a hand to his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle his snicker. "If you wanted to dance, you should have followed me in the first place," he said, smiling smugly.

I realized I must have said it out loud. "I don't," I said quickly in mortification. "Really. I just- I just didn't want you being molested. I'm not jealous or anything. Of course not. Why would you think that?" I suck at lying. I think you might've noticed already.

Mello raised an eyebrow, smirking knowingly.

"You're my date!" I exclaimed helplessly, unable to find any other excuse. "Therefore you're supposed to be with me. Not with...Near or that other guy."

"Nice Ass, you're such an idiot," Mello said informatively, before taking my hand and pulling me back into the crowd. Before I knew it, I among the people, with Mello in front of me, dancing to the beat of some techno song. Also, the bastard made sure to emphasize his dancing arse.

Well, it could have been worse.

Mello twirled around smoothly, hooking his arms around my shoulders and shooting me a flirtatious smile. He was a lot closer now, especially his face; our noses were brushing just the slightest bit.

"Mello," I croaked, feeling like I was going to die of suffocation.

"Well, don't just stand there," Mello chastised. "Dance, Matty."

Matty? Oh god. "Uh..."

Mello rolled his eyes in exasperation, stopping mid-sway and walking around me. Before I could ask what he was doing, his hands were on my hips, lips against my ear. "Just sway your hips to the music - like this," he instructed, forcing my hips side to side.

I felt another blush creeping onto my cheeks as people stared. "Um, Melanie," I hissed urgently. "You're my girlfriend, remember?"

Mello chuckled, but let go of my waist nonetheless. "Well maybe you should have been the one to wear the dress," he murmured. He gave me a predatory smirk. "And I thought this was only a date," he said innocently. "We never said that I was your girlfriend."

I made a garbled noise of protest, frowning unhappily. Mello cackled, returning to my front and resuming his grinding. I can't say that I didn't enjoy it - about a song later, I was dancing back a little, but I'd never done this sort of thing before, much less with another guy.

We stayed for two more hours or so, in which we danced, sometimes interrupted when the molestor(the one who'd been grinding with Mello earlier) kept trying to butt in. I'm not sure which one was more amusing: Mello putting the guy's hand on his crotch, or the molestor's face when he figured out that 'Melanie' wasn't as much of a girl as he thought. Mello and I barely suppressed our laughter as the guy high-tailed out of the club, screaming something about transvestites.

When we walked outside to my car, night had settled in, the sky sprinkled with stars and a full moon. Mello asked again, "Do I get to drive?"

And I replied again, "No. You, chick. Me, guy."

"Sexist."

"Psycho."

"Nerd."

"Stalker."

"You know you love it." He winked.

"Nnyeah." I stuck my tongue out at him childishly as we both got in the car. As soon as I'd started the engine, Green Day blasted from the speakers.

"I love this song!" Mello yelled over the noise level. He turned the volume up louder as I exited Death Note's parking lot. I had time to marvel at his singing voice... Maybe if we worked on it, he could become a member of one of those emo rock bands.

At this thought, I glanced at him. He had a look of delight on his face, the open window letting the wind rush in and blow his hair back.

_Mello, emo? Nah..._

I stared at him ever so casually as I waited for a light to turn green. I watched as he yelled profanity at the car across from us, listened to the creative cuss words that were yelled back, and snorted in amusement when Mello flipped them off.

"Bastards," he huffed, slumping back in the seat with a childish pout.

_Well, maybe..._

"Um, Matt, that's my house," Mello said a few minutes later, pointing out the window as I passed a particular building.

"It'd be helpful if I knew your address," I retorted, starting to make a U-turn. "Next maybe before, y'know, we go out again."

We go out again? Surprisingly, I wasn't that opposed to it. In fact, I wanted to. Go out again, I mean. And maybe next time with him looking like a boy-

No. Unacceptable. I wasn't gay. I was strictly straight. Maybe..._bi?_

I halted to a stop in front of Mello's apartment and climbed out, leaving the car running. I walked Mello to his door, listening to him rant about how hard he'd dressed up for tonight, how he'd even considered putting on fake boobs.

Here I interrupted him with a laugh. "Fake boobs?" I echoed in between fits of laughter.

Mello looked surprised, as if he hadn't known I was actually listening. A corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Yeah, do you like the idea of me using them?" he said suggestively, waggling his shoulders.

"Well I thought that next time, you could be just plain old Mello," I said, the words coming out of my mouth without my permission.

Mello turned a (rather cute) shade of pink. "Next time?" he echoed.

I smiled. "Next time," I confirmed.

For a while, neither of us said anything, just stared at each other. Wasn't it just two seconds ago that we were laughing about fake boobs? When had things suddenly gotten this-

Mello suddenly reached up and pressed his lips against mine, successfully sending my train of thought screeching to a halt, then crashing into a subway tunnel. It was over much too quickly(for my liking), and the next thing I knew Mello was standing back in front of me, biting his lip and looking guilty.

That made something inside me go 'click'. It took me a few seconds to figure it out, but eventually, I came up with the answer: I liked Mello. I wasn't sure what kind of 'like' exactly, but now, all of his sexual harassing doesn't seem so bad anymore. I think I might have liked it all along, the denial just kept me from realizing it.

I opened my mouth to say something to break the awkward silence. Mello sensed this and seemed to panic. He hastily crouched down, grabbed a spare key from under the welcome mat, jammed it into the keyhole, and opened his door. Before stepping inside, he gave me a small smirk. "Sweet dreams, Nice Ass," he said, and shut the door.

I was left standing there, stunned, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why must Mello be so complicated?

As I walked back to my car, I mentally made a list of things that I learned this night.

_1. Mello would be a pro at pole dancing, considering his dancing from tonight._

I arrived at my own apartment, feeling livid as I turned the ignition off and got out of my car.

_2. He's can sure as hell pass for a woman._

Miraculously, I drowned out the sounds of the doorman arguing with another tenant near the front desk, and proceeded to take the elevator up to my floor.

_3. He's a good kisser with a nice personality, when he's not harassing me._

With numb fingers, I managed to identify the right key from my key-chain and unlocked my door, stepping in and ignoring the latest pile of cat crap near the doorway.

_4. I actually don't mind him harassing me._

I kicked off my boots and put them aside, not bothering with the rest of my clothes. I collapsed on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed look.

_5. Mello looks pretty in the moonlight._

**A/N: F says: I hope I didn't drown anyone in fluff... And since I have nothing to say for almost every chapter, I shall say something now: WE HAVE PLOT! *cackles***


	10. The Desperate and the Leatherless

**Matt's POV**

Why is it that things never work out for me?

Okay, first of all, the night of our date. After about thirty minutes of being livid and staring up at the ceiling like a special case of stupid, I finally hauled my ass off the couch and trudged into my bedroom, where my nice-looking bed beckoned me welcomingly. Or, as nice-looking as that bed can look like, considering the numerous amounts of coffee stains that were riddled practically everywhere. I keep forgetting to change them, jeez, I need to actually do some housework sometimes...

Right, back to the topic. I stumbled into the room and promptly sprawled face-first onto the bed. I didn't bother changing clothes or getting out of those ridiculously tight jeans (Mello, you better have liked that), just collapsed with my right leg dangling on the edge and fell asleep.

"Matt," someone eventually whispered.

"Five more minutes," I groaned, turning over and shielding my head.

They sighed. "You're going to be late for work."

"Fuck, I don't care," I whined, rolling over and squinting up at the intruder. "Who the hell are you, anyway?" And why was the light on? Mommy, I thought you knew that I hate bright lights!

"It's me, ass-hat." Mello came into view, right before he flicked me on the forehead. He, clearly, was not my mother.

The moment that realization dawned on me, I shot upright to a sitting position, looking at the blond as if he were a maniac. "Mello!"

"That's my name," Mello said sourly.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Getting you up before you're late, of course."

"But, how'd you get-" He put a finger to my lips, shushing me.

"Shut up, Matt," he said softly, tone going soft. His looked at me with a gleam of something in his eyes. Me being the somewhat-idiotic Matt I was, I just gaped like a fish who was about to be eaten by a shark.

And maybe I was, in this case. "But," I began again, only to have Mello shove his finger further up my lips. "But!" I protested, and Mello shushed me again. "Damn it, let me finish-!"

"Matt," he said softly, and gave me this serious look.

I felt my cheeks heating up and I furiously shook my head to the side. "Fine," I muttered, sliding off the bed and onto my feet. I gave Mello one last pointed glare before walking out of my room and heading towards the kitchen. He merely smirked and trailed behind.

Once I'd finished heating up the last of my bagels, I took a seat on one of the chairs, and silently begged Mello not to sit in front of me. And since the odds are never in my favor, he did, with that big, infuriating smirk on his face. He quirked an eyebrow at my sulky expression.

"Hey Nice-Ass."

I didn't bother answering. Maybe because now I didn't totally mind being called Nice-Ass. It was flattering, once you got over the bluntness.

"Hello," Mello drawled.

My pride wouldn't let me answer him. I raised my chin higher and continued eating my bagel.

"Matt."

_I will not answer. I will not answer. I will not answer. I will-_

"Matty..."

-_answer. Fuck_. "What?" I asked irately.

A smile bloomed on his face and he looked like he'd won something. "Ahaha, you fell for it!"

I rolled my eyes. He was older than me; shouldn't he be more mature? "Mello," I began tiredly, but didn't get to finish because the blond in subject. "Hey!" I abruptly stood, looking around. "Mello!"

Alas, the psycho neither came walking back in nor reappear in magical pink fairy dust. And when I saw the clock on my microwave, I suddenly understood.

_3:46 am._

Three fucking forty-six. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

I whipped around to face the empty chair that Mello had been sitting on. It was pushed in, as if it hadn't been touched in the first place. And that didn't make sense, because Mello had sat there, and he was here just five minutes ago-

"I'm screwed," I groaned, my hands coming up to massage my forehead. Feeling a migraine coming on, I trudged back to the bedroom after chucking my bagel into the sink. It took some time to get to sleep after that, and when I finally did, it was already four-thirty.

_Mail, what kind of person does that? _I can almost hear my mother say. _Are you so infatuated with Mello that you had an illusion of him waking you in the middle of the night?_

_I do that, mommy, _I answered back, _thus proving that I am infatuated with-_

No. No, no, no. I'm _not_. Mello_- No_. I adamantly deny that, because it's not true, I'm not infatuated with-

The shrill ringing of my cell phone made me startle awake. I was itching to punch the cursed reincarnation of the devil(yes, the devil is my cell phone, now shut up) but I had less energy than I thought. I wearily hit the off button and clambered out of bed, making sure there was no imaginary Mello to harass me.

I looked at the bagel in the middle of the sink with remorse. Okay, I get it, I'd been furious earlier - but that poor bagel... This is all Mello's fault!

I arrived at Justice on time, also thoroughly pissed off. I'd been half-expecting Mello to jump out and begin molesting me once again, so when he didn't, I was confused. Usually he was here earlier than me. Misa was all by herself in the corner, readjusting some shirts, which didn't make sense either. Mello should be teasing her about her hair. Hm.

"L!" I exclaimed when the man past me.

L glanced back halfway and looked at me disinterestedly. "Yes, Matt?" he asked around the thumbnail that he was chewing.

"Is Mello here yet?" I inquired with too much enthusiasm.

L tilted his head to the side slightly, a sign I'd learnt that meant he was curious. "No," he replied shortly. He saw my disappointed look and didn't ask, turning away. "I shall be in the back," he monotoned, and I could hear the smile in his tone. He raised an arm in a half wave before disappearing in the back.

What did he do back there?

"Melly-chan!" Misa cried joyously, darting past me(in high heels, my god) to tackle-glomp the other blond.

I turned, prepared to drag Misa away before Mello could beat her up. But - surprisingly - Mello didn't look mad.

Or annoyed.

Or anything like the Mello's I've seen.

For one, he was decked in a horrifyingly bright pink shirt(with a dancing chocolate bar in the middle), with regular jeans and regular sneakers. His hair was a little frizzy, as if he hadn't spent a whole amount of time on it - not to imply that Mello spends time doing his hair. Which he probably does, but never mind that.

"Mello?" I said, giving him my 'WTF?' face.

He looked up at me, and I noticed he was slouching. "Hm?" he said flatly.

"Y-you're..." I trailed off, looking for the right word. "...leatherless."

He didn't smirk and tell me that that wasn't a word. He merely nodded, as if 'leatherless' was a word, and brushed past me to the registers. Okay, what the heck?

I decided to leave him alone. He looked like the type to murder you if you annoyed him further on his time of the month - err, I mean his mood swings. And though the absence of leather bugged me, I managed to survive the day -

-or, well, most of the day. At about ten o'clock, my oh-so genius brain came up with an idea: _Get Mello to harass you!_

Not that I do like him harassing me. I'm a bit of a masochist an all, but, I figured that since my pain seems to bring happiness to him, then maybe I can get a few laughs out of him. Brilliant, right? Right. I'm so smart.

So I waited for the perfect opportunity, first. It came about ten minutes later, when Mello was working register duty and Misa was just taking off. I took her spot beside Mello, serving tween girls and gays and getting flirted with simultaneously. Which only managed to freak me out more because a) Mello didn't once seem to notice me, and b) I didn't know gay guys can look good in eye shadow.

"Excuse me, can I get a bigger size for this?" a brunette was asking Mello. Fortunately, she looked more decent than the other girls who smother themselves all over us.

"Mhm." Mello was about to turn around when I grabbed his arm, effectively stilling him. He looked at me with questioning blue eyes.

"I'll get it," I said sweetly, flashing a smile.

He nodded. "You do that."

I turned and examined the boxes on the ground against the wall, and just stood there. Eventually, Mello turned around to see what was taking so long. He saw me staring at him. I smiled cheekily and gave a wave. He gave me a pained look.

Humming, I turned back around and bent over, digging through the shirts semi-consciously. Because, y'know, I was aware that my ass was sticking up into the air, practically in Mello's face. When I decided that I'd waggled my butt long enough, I grabbed the right purple shirt and straightened, facing him with the same chipper smile. "Here you go," I said, passing him the shirt.

Mello glanced to the front of the counter, then back to me. "She left," he said bluntly.

"Oh..." Gah, why was it so hard to talk to him today? "Why?"

"I think she found your ass unattractive," he deadpanned, before setting the shirt down neatly on the counter and walking away.

Ouch. Well, that hurt, Mello. After I offer my ass to you willingly, you call it unattractive? Ungrateful little-

"Oh! I have the greatest, most wonderful-est idea ev-ver!"

My eyes lit up as I got my own idea. "Thanks Misa!" I said, since Misa's outbursts had always had a strange tendency to give me ideas.

Misa shot me a confused smile. "Anytime, Matty!" she called back.

And so, fifteen minutes later, I came striding back in Justice, my cheek thoroughly smeared with cream cheese. Not smeared, more like a tiny bit on my left cheek, big enough so that everyone could see it. After that, I made sure to flash my face at Mello as many times as possible, trying to tempt him into licking it off again. Because he looked so pleased with himself when he'd done it the first time, right?

I spotted Mello near the entrance talking to some nine-year-old. For the umpteenth time, I walked over and butted in.

"Hi, little girl," I cooed, reaching out and patting her on the head.

She looked at me with eyes as big as cows, brown irises trained on the cream cheese stain on my face. "Mommy!" she sobbed, turning tail and fleeing from us.

"Well," I muttered under my breath, trying to ignore Mello's stare. I pretended to be casual in looking over, though my heart was beating wildly. Was he finally going to lick my face? (No matter how weird that sounded?)

"You have something on your face, Matt," Mello said, gesturing to his own cheek. He glanced behind me, before his eyes flickered upward to meet mine. He looked so innocent-like at that moment, with his dancing-chocolate-bar shirt. "You should really go to the bathroom and wash it off." He nodded once to himself before deserting me once again.

I silently mourned my loss and turned around to find that girl's mother and apologize, only to almost run into L. "Oh, hey L," I said distractedly. When had he sneaked out of his office?

"Hello." He studied me for a moment, until his eyes finally rested on the smear on my cheek.

"Oh, that," I chuckled abashedly. "You see..."

But he'd already straightened, licked the cream cheese off my cheek, then crouched back down. He licked his lips contemptlatively, and the sweet-obsessed man said, "Strawberry." The way he looked made it seem as if he did this on a daily basis, so it didn't bother me...too much. And now I didn't have enough spare change to buy another bagel and purposely cake my cheek again.

I told you things never work out my way.

**Mello's POV**

To say that that particular day was torturous would be a melodramatic overstatement. I'm good at overstating _and _being melodramatic, so I tell you now: that particular day was torture.

It started at night.

I wasn't sure why I was awake, really, except that I came into full consciousness and found myself collapsed on my kitchen floor, legs sprawled out in front of me, staring at my (non working) oven, eyes trained on the one part of said appliance that worked. The clock. It read 3:00. A.M. Great.

Naturally I crawled back into bed, buried myself in blankets, and tried to will myself to go back to sleep. But of course, this wouldn't happen for me, and instead I ended up tossing and turning throughout thoroughly dpressing thoughts and painfully loving memories.

_Matt was so hot in those skinny jeans._

Cue tossing.

_I shouldn't think like that. He doesn't like me back. Not that way. And even if he did…._

Cue turning.

_It was so fun dancing with Matt. I especially liked it when his hips were against mine._

Tossing.

_I hurt everyone I love. I can't just go around seducing him, even if that did have a good chance of working. Love is pointless. It would only tear me apart, tear _him _apart._

Turning.

_I can't believe I kissed him._

The tossing stopped, and now I found myself curled in a tight ball, blankets over my head. I felt like a child this way.

_No. I can't believe he kissed me back. Bastard._

Squeezing my eyes shut. Willing the thoughts away.

_And that warmth, and that softness, and that feeling…_

Cacooning myself faurther into the blankets, knowing I would wake up sweaty again but not caring at that point.

_He was so nice to me. He's so funny. He's so cute. _

The curtain of my eyelids won't block out the thoughts.

_I think I'm falling… falling… falling for him… not just his body… all of him._

Holding my breath. Feeling the oxygen burn in my lungs, willing the thoughts, the images, out of my brain but still feeilng them, festering in the back of my skull…

_This has to stop._

And stop it would. As soon as morning came (too soon, I might add) I proceeded to do… next to nothing. And by this, I mean I changed my schedual completely.

I did not dress up, I threw on some ill-fitting blue jeans that made my butt look flat, strangely comfortable sneakers, dorky bright pink shirt (I got it at Hershey's world, okay?). I did not do my hair, I just brushed it out half-heartedly and left it frizzy no matter how hideous it made me feel. I didn't walk with poise, I let my shoulders slump and my back curve slightly in a lax pose. I didn't express, intead I repressed, keeping my facial at a dim, apathetic, or polite.

I kept myself at a dim average. I wasn't me.

But I had to do it. I trudged off to work like this, in this drab uniform, because of Matt. This, I felt sure, would scare him off the trail. He would lose interest, just like everybody else I did this to, as soon as I became uninteresting. Sure, he would be curious for a while, but soon I would just fade away into the background of Justice until I could find another job somewhere else. Far, far away from Matt. This, I knew, I could bear, even as I slid into work feeling like a tottaly different person. Even as I allowed myself to be lost in the background, I knew it had to be done, if only for a little while.

What was more painful than that, though, was that Matt noticed. Matt seemed like he actually cared. In fact, now that I wasn't being me and being a total creep-stalker and making comments about his incredibly good looking ass, the roles seemed to get reversed and now he seemed to be doing anything and everything to get my attentoin. I swear he was doing it on propose (though more than likely he wasn't and I'm just an asshole.) Not only did he burn holes into my backside whenever I wasn't turned his way, but he insisted on flirting with me (I had no idea he had such a sultry voice when he wanted to - what's with the "I'll do it?" and the suggestive smile? I mean really, Matt? Really?), taunting me with his ass (how dare he try and exploit my weakness?), strolling around with cream cheese on his face (I'm not sure if this was on purpose, but either way it drove me crazy).

By the end of the day, I was at wits end, but I did my very best not to let it show. Because I am Mello the ever-fantastic actor (really, I am - I even managed to call Matt's ass unattractive with a straight face, and that takes _skill)_.

I could feel Matt's eyes burning holes into my back as I strolled past him to get my bag from behind the counter. It took a lot of energy to spin around and scream, "STOP STARING AT ME, YOU'RE MAKING ME FEEL BAD FOR IGNORING YOU, STUBBORN TWAT!" But of course I didn't, because this would ruin my whole plan. Instead, I simply marched out the door, willing myself not to glance back.

Not to glance back.

Don't glance back.

_Don't _glance ba-

Despite my inner-mind chant I glanced over my shoulder at him as I left. And it would just so be my luck that I caught his eye when I did, and even behind the goggles I could see the emotion glimmering through his orange-tinted eyes. I could see the confusion, the bewilderment, the hurt there. A look that said he wondered about last night as much as I did.

"_Next time," _he'd said. _"Next time." _But next time for what?

_It doesn't matter. Because I'm not going to go back and find out, _I told myself silently, spinning on my heel and marching down the walkway.

I made it all of ten steps before I ran straight into an extremely tall brunette who seemed to insist on shoving anyone who got of her way, including me. Bitch's elbow moved _right _in the way of my face, conking me in the cheek and sending me be dodging backwards before her shoulder collided with mine, causing me to sadly lose my balance and fall.

As I sprawled to the ground, screeching profanity, I _almost _moved to trip her, too. Almost, except that Matt had appeared out of no where and was hurrying over, and somehow that stopped me from doing so. Though I did manage to shout, "What the hell, whore-face!" after her as she raced away, promptly tossing a small child out of her way as she headed towards the Apple store. Somehow I got the feeling that Geek Squad was in for it…

"Are you okay?" Matt insisted from where he stood above me, reaching out a polite hand to help me up.

I almost slipped and purred flirtatiously 'why, are you _worried _about me, sweetie?' but caught myself and instead only glared at him, ignoring the outstretched hand and getting to my feet myself. "I'm fine, thanks."

Matt gave me a look that suggested he might have been sucking on lemons before he came to my rescue. But instead of this coming through in his voice, he sounded almost pouty as he said, "What's up with the weirdness today?" He motioned to my outfit, suspiciously eyeing the dancing chocolate bar situated right in the center of it's pink delightfulness.

I managed a small, wan smile, so different from my usual sly, cocky one. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied smoothly, rolling my eyes and passing him on my way down the walkway. I was only half surprised that he followed me insistently.

"Yes you do," he insisted, sounding disgruntled. "We have a great time and then you suddenly act like.. _this? _Don't tell me this is how you are normally, because we both know it isn't."

I snort, letting my voice twist into a bit of a rude tone. "Tch. Matt, you're starting to sound like a rejected ex-boyfriend, and that's _really _irritating. Seriously - bug off. We had one date, dude." I tell myself firmly not to look back as I hear the footsteps from beside me stop. Demand myself not to feel bad as I toss the last lie over my shoulder before strutting away and out the door.

"It meant nothing."

"So what your saying is," he said bluntly, analytically, "that you want him to go away because he's irritating you."

I scowl at the man from my place draped across his couch, my face half buried in a pillow and half facing him, causing my voice to be muffled as I grumble, "No, stupid, weren't you listening? I want him to go away because I like him."

"I am not stupid, I am L," L reminded me blatantly. After a moment of being stared at bewilderedly by yours truly, he continued, "But I do not understand your unhappiness. If you like him, shouldn't you enjoy his company?"

"L, I told you this," I insisted, irked now. "I don't want to hurt him, and that's all I'm going to do if I keep being with him because I'm an asshole -"L blinked. "Well I won't deny that…"

I ignore his cut in and simply continue speaking. " - so I want him to go away and just, you know, go find a girlfriend or something. I just don't want him hurt." I frown deeply. "Except it's sort of backfiring because now that I'm ignoring him he seems like he's hurt anyway."

"I see…" L said slowly, intelligently, nodding his head in a leisurely manner. Then he frowned. "Well I don't know what to say about that, actually."

I stare at him, disbelieving for a moment, then sigh and bury my face in the pillow. "You're so useless…"

We were sitting in none other than L's apartment, which by the way was freakin' humongous. As in me, Matt, _and _Misa cold move in with him and he'd still have plenty of room. Which is exactly why I lived with him for a good long time, actually, but… I won't get into that. I had come here now not to stay but instead desperate for advice. L is, if you hadn't guessed, pretty much my only friend outside of collage buddies (who don't really even count except for maybe Halle), not to mention basically like an older brother to me. So it was only deemed obvious that I'd come to him for advice. Somehow, though, it had slipped my mind that he is _a total social failure._

Seeming the tiniest bit flustered L shuffled across the room in his odd fashion and plopped in his equally-odd fashion onto the chair across from me. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "Maybe you could bake him a cake."

I paused, thinking for a moment that I hadn't heard him right. Sitting up and looking at him, I saw that he had a completely serious look on his face. So I was forced to choke out a flabbergasted, "Did you _seriously _just suggest that?"L smiled his creepy smile. "Yes."

"_Cake?"_

L nodded sophisticatedly, almost in a reprimanding way. "Of course. Cake is _always _the solution. Well, except when solving murder mysteries, but cake still helps even with that."

I sigh and lay back against the back of the couch, head lolling backwards exasperatedly. "You're insane, L," I inform him dryly.

"Am I?" L inquired, almost as if he truly wanted an answer. Or maybe he did - you could almost never tell with him. I didn't bother answering, not that he gave me a chance before pouncing out of the chair and sauntering into the kitchen, calling joyously (or at least as joyously as L can manage), "That's it, I'm making cake! Chocolate or vanilla?" L paused. "Never mind, I already know the answer."

I sigh and close my eyes, emotionally drained to the point of physical exhaustion. Plus, damn… L's couch is comfortable… _I wonder what Matt dreams about? _I wonder, relaxing against the soft whiteness of the furniture.

I'm not sure why, but I think I dream of red-headed bunnies.

**A/N: Holli - sorry my part is so short D: it wasn't on propose… XD' Also, I'm curious - you know that lady that pushed Mello over? Have you ever actually encountered someone in the mall like that? Believe it or not, I HAVE. God it was so annoying, this random woman just dashing through shoving people around, muttering about some sort of sale at Old Navy, as if they're going to suddenly run out of one dollar flip flops. Sigh. Well, there's your daily tidbit, kiddies. Review?**


	11. Being Blue

**A/N: Err... yah. New chapter took to long because Atreyl and I have somehow developed real lives. :c no way. Hope you enjoy XD oh, and F says for me to tell you that you're all terrible reveiwers and should die somehwere dark and scary, most likely a slow death by drowning or suffocation. **

**...8D not really.**

**~H**

**

* * *

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**Matt's POV**

I'd never describe myself as desperate. I was Matt, gamer extraordinaire, I didn't need to chase after a girl, or a man…or Mello…

Nonetheless, I found myself ringing the doorbell of Misa Amane's house.

I tugged at the edge of my shirt, not because I was nervous of seeing Misa(who always seemed to be in a skimpy outfit), but because I had, again, never been like this before. And by 'like this,' I mean, despe - er, I mean, worried, enough about someone that I actually asked Misa for advice. I've stooped so low that I'm probably bent over farther than L, and that's saying something.

"One minute!" I heard Misa call from inside.

Stupid Mello, I thought with a pout. He just had to have a mood swing after possibly the best date I've ever had. Damn him.

Before I can think of anymore profanity, the door was opened, and there was Misa in all her scantily-clad glory. "Matty!" she said happily, throwing her arms around me in a crushing bear hug.

I tried to smile. "Hey Misa." After giving her a half-hug in return, I looked over her outfit.

It was rather simple compared the usual things she wore. She had on an aquamarine tank top that went down longer than most tank tops, stopping about mid-thigh. Around her shoulders was a loosely wrapped white blazer, tied to the front by a green ribbon. The sleeve of the blazer drooped down to the middle of her arm, nearly at the crook of her elbow. She wasn't wearing any jeans; her legs were bare, half covered by white stockings, and shiny black shoes completed the ensemble.

I gulped, throat suddenly going dry as my mind almost instinctively imagined Mello in those clothes.

Misa cocked her head, a confused little smile appearing on her face. "Matt?"

I made an unintelligible noise, a sound stuck somewhere between a grunt and a squeak.

"Silly, come in already," Misa said with a giggle, stepping back and widening the door.

I stepped in without another word, kicking off my boots beside the doorway. "I was just finishing my sewing project," Misa said, bounding into the living room. She sat down on the sofa, making herself comfortable and then picking up a needle and a piece of cloth.

I carelessly flopped down on the love seat in the opposite direction of where she was. "I'm so tired!" I complained.

Misa, ever attentive, began to sew while she looked at me with a curious face. I had no idea how she didn't manage to sew through her finger.

"It's Mello's fault," I grumbled to myself, flicking an annoying overgrown strand of hair from my eyes.

"What's Mello's fault?" Misa questioned, pausing mid-sew.

"It's his fault for making me so worried about him!" I growled. Frustrated, I pounded on the couch with my fists. "I mean, there I am, _finally_ making this stalker-thing consensual, but then guess what? He turns and walks away! And calls my ass unattractive!"

Misa began to reply, before my words apparently registered in my brain. She froze in that position, mouth half-open, eyes bright.

And then, it happened.

Misa..._exploded._

"Consensual?" she practically shrieked, leaping across the room and jumping on me.

I said something like, "Misa, what're you-Mmphmmm!" before the female blonde was upon me.

"Tell me all about it!" Misa demanded. "Tell me!" After a second's thought, she added, "Please?"

I wriggled around, trying to escape her death grip while ignoring the fact that here boobs were smushed against my face. "I'll tell you if stop suffocating me," I choked out.

Misa complied, scooting off and away from me to the other side of the love seat. "So." She put on her best professional face. "Speak."

I gave her a sour look, drawing my knees to my chest. "We're not together, or whatever you're thinking," I mumbled, picking at the fabric of my jeans. It had been my mistake for specifically saying 'consensual.' _You're so stupid, _I told myself with an inward sigh.

"Of course you're not," Misa said sweetly. She bounced lightly, her pigtails flouncing. "C'mon Matty, what happened? Misa-Misa wants to know."

"All right, I'll tell you!" I rested my forehead on my knees, took a deep breath, and said, "Well, it started about two days ago when we went out on a date - which I was totally manipulated into agreeing, of course - and we went to that club, Death Note - Near says hi by the way - and we danced and Mello grinded on me for majority of the time all because I got jealous when he started dancing with this other guy, so anyway, back to the topic, we were dancing, right, and after that, I drove him home, and then we sang along to some songs on the radio and I got so distracted by how pretty he looked that I drove past his house, and he had to point it out, and after I laughed awkwardly, I made a U-turn and drove back and we got out and I walked him to his front door like those cheesy first-date scenarios and then, then, then, I _kissed_ him and he just kind of blushed and smiled and went inside his apartment, and when I got home later on, I could not forget the fact that he looked so damn fine in girl clothes - by the way, I've been getting an increasing amount of moments where I've stopped and wondered what it would be like if Mello wore girl clothes all the time - and I fell asleep and I hallucinated and had an epiphany in the morning that I liked it when he harassed me, so when I went to work, of course expecting him to stalk me like usual, he doesn't and that ticks me off! And I don't know what to do because he's being a stubborn, PMS-ing girl that refuses to acknowledge me unless it's to call my ass 'unattractive' or give me a blank look with a monotone response!

"_It's so goddamn frustrating!_" I ended in a loud shriek; by that time I was flailing. The love seat didn't have enough space for my moving body, so naturally, I fell off and found myself staring at a pretty pink ceiling.

Misa was silent.

I lied there, breathing heavily, trying to regain my composure. That...had been the first time I'd broken down. Damn Mello.

"Matt," Misa started, "you are in serious need of therapy."

Great. If someone like Misa thought so, then it was probably true.

_We are gathered here today in memory of Mail Jeevas's sanity..._ I can hear the funeral music. "Really," I croaked, not moving from the floor.

"It's a good thing Misa-Misa's willing to help!" Suddenly, the old, bubbly Misa was back and she was hovering above me with a wide smile. "Get up off your bum and lie down on the sofa, I promise to be by your side through this wonderful journey of solving your inner conflicts." The ditzy look on her face made me wonder whether or not she'd known what half of the stuff she'd said was.

But I was desperate(I guess now it's safe to use that adjective, after my little breakdown...) and Misa was the only one I could talk to about this. I acquiesced, getting up and resuming my position on the sofa. I combed a hand through my hair tiredly.

"All right, let's begin with a simple question: Why?" Misa said pleasantly.

"I...don't get it," I admitted.

"Why," Misa repeated, "do you think Mello is acting this way?"

I scratched the side of my face thoughtfully, gazing up at the ceiling with dazed eyes. "Um, maybe he realized he didn't like me after all?" I muttered.

Misa slapped me on the leg. "No!" she said fiercely. A second after the outburst, her tone went soft again. "He's doing this because he wants to change."

"Change," I echoed with incredulity evident in my voice. There was no way that egotistical Mello would want to change for me, anyone, or just change in general. It doesn't fit with his personality.

"Change." Misa leaned over and cupped my face. She looked at me with wide, unblinking eyes. "Now, Matty," she said slowly, "what do you think you should do in return?"

"Enjoy the sudden turn of events?" I offered with a meek smile.

"You have to reciprocate." Misa leaned back. "It's simple. The only way that your relationship is going to work is if the scale is balanced out. Right now, Mello's doing all the work, and the scale is tipped in his favor. Things are uneven. But if you try to change as well," she nodded wisely, "the scale will be tipped back into balance."

Um. Whoa. Since when did Misa...? "I think I understand," I said, actually meaning it. "So, what do you suggest I'd change?" I sat up eagerly, revelling in this newfound realization.

"How about your clothes?" Misa made a face, poking at my goggles and my shirt. "Not to mention that vest, yuck."

I looked down, then back up. "But..." I did not want to change my whole appearance.

Misa seemed to read my mind. "Matt. Think," she said. "Mello got rid of his leather _and_ improved his personality. What do you plan to contribute to the relationship, huh?"

I really wished she'd stop calling what Mello and I had a 'relationship.' "I can dye my hair darker," I put in with a small sigh. Well, I supposed it was about time to stop sticking out in a crowd.

"Good." Misa seemed happy, nodding. "What else?"

What else? Jeez. "And I won't wear my vest anymore...?"

Misa clapped joyously. "Perfect!" Then, "Mello would be so proud of you! This is going to work!"

And, you know, at that moment, I really believed that it was going to work. Misa might have slipped drugs into me without my knowing or whatever, but nonetheless, I was returning to Misa's place about thirty minutes later with a plastic bag full of hair dye.

Misa set up all thirteen bottles of hair dye - all varying in color - along her strangely wide counter and seated me in front of the mirror. "Green?" she offered.

"No!" I exclaimed quickly.

Misa giggled. "I know. Let's see... I'm going to mix some of the midnight black into the candy apple red and hopefully make maroon," she informed me. "What do you think?"

I studied my bright red hair in the mirror. I took a deep breath and smiled. "Go for it."

And that's how, three hours later, I stood in the same place, except that there were several stains of dye: black, red, and mysteriously, some blue got in there, but whatever. I was too excited to see my new hair color to really care.

"How is it?" Misa spoke up from outside. "Show me!"

"Just a minute!" I called back. I reached for the towel that covered my newly-dyed hair and closed my eyes.

_This is going to work. This is going to work. This is going to work._

I heard the towel fall down to the floor in a heap. I slowly pried my eyes open.

_This is going to w-_

"Well, shit."_

* * *

_

**Mello's POV**

I stood there in front of the mirror, staring at my outfit with distaste as I did. It shouldn't have been what I noticed - it should have been my actual face, or 'what's on the inside' or what shit, I know, but right now my concentration was on my light grey tank top and dark purple skinny jeans, along with a hastily slung on pair of sneakers and a studded belt.

All I could think was that I had somehow managed to look like a Queen and an emo kid all at once. My hair was even messy as hell, not brushed back as normal, in a way that cased it to stray in front of my face more than I would have normally allowed it to be. It wasn't a look I was against as a whole, exactly - in fact, it looked pretty damn hot on a lot of people. But I was _not _one of those people, in my opinion. I simply wasn't the type to toss on eyeshadow and write depressing poetry about 'broken crimson hearts' and 'how it feels when it rains' and whatever other fucked up crap emo kids write about. I'm not anti-emo-kid, but seriously - what the hell? Plus, I looked like a poser, not even a real gay-emo-kid. And a slacker, judging by the unkempt hairdo I donned.

Then again, what the hell else was I going to wear?

Sighing loudly, I muttered "Oh well, screw it" and strolled away from the mirror, heading with a slight, unfamiliar slouch and walked to the mall. Which, like I said, was really close.

Annoying as hell living so close, let me tell you. Sure, I could walk to work, which was great, but seriously - I do _not _need to hear traffic at one A.M. Seriously people - stop going to movies so damn late. It's not hot to drool all over your date because your too damn sleepy to even pay attention to not falling asleep in the middle of Zombieland.

Great movie, by the way. Not something I'd want to watch at _one A.M. _but good.

But thanks to this little spree of people every night, I either have to wear earplugs to bed or just wait it out. And earplugs don't stay in my ears - I don't know why, maybe my ears are just weird… but last time I tried to wear them, I woke up with one in my pants and one beside my stomach. No idea how the former got t here though, only that I was quite disturbed to discover it that morning.

In any case, I could walk to the mall from my house. So that's how I chose to get there, simply because (unlike the majority of you who are reading this, probably) I actually _enjoy _exercise. Unknown concept to most of America, I know, but it's true, I promise.

I was about ready to burst straight into an entire ramble about how much our country sucks (inwardly, of course) when the sight of you-know-who in the parking lot set me dead in my tracks.

It wasn't just that it was him, though that kind of sight in and of itself was one that I would linger to stare at (especially the bottom half of said person, if you hadn't noticed before this). Today, the sight of him literally made me halt, gaping a bit and probably looking a little bit like a fish as I did (a gay emo kid fish, great combo right there…). For once, it wasn't his sexy ass or abs or fuzzy vest (which were mysteriously missing) or goggles… so, what was it?

His hair.

It was _blue._

I'm not talking about a little bit of it was blue, or that kind of dim blue or dark blue. I'm talking bright, ice _blue, _the kind you'd see marked over black paper to make sure it showed up well. The kind that almost blinded you upon first glance and, in my case, made you stop in your tracks and stare for a second before you realized who it was and you whispered direly, "_Oh god tell me it's a wig."_

Apparently, it was also the kind of blue that made an old woman passing said blue-haired person on the street stop full on, her frail legs jittering a bit as she hastily leaned on her cane for support. It took her a second, but she slowly turned around, peering at Matt analytically behind her thinning white strands of bangs, softly wrinkled face curving into an inquisitive kind of frown.

Then she promptly shrieks at the top of her darling old lady lungs, "YOUTH THESE DAYS, BY GOD! DEMONS, ALL _DEMONS, _I TELL YOU! I'm going home to repent, and so should you, young man_!_" Then, promptly and very rudely, point straight to the poor, defenseless gay-emo-kid behind said blue-haired boy and snap, "You too, fag-boy, don't think I don't notice you behind all that blue."

I paled, stunned by the seemingly sweet old woman's sudden outburst, and watched in shock and mild horror as she proceeded to scuttle off in her little old lady way, smiling brightly at people who she passed as if nothing had happened and she hadn't just screamed profanity at two semi-innocent teenage boys who she clearly didn't know.

"I'm starting to really, _really_ hate the elderly," I announced under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief. Perhaps a bit too loudly, actually, because Nice-Ass obviously heard and turned around, a curious, almost elated look in his eyes even behind those goggles of his. I had to choke back the urge to start cursing, at myself this time, but that would ruin the entire point.

So instead of responding to his "Mel?" I quirked an eyebrow at him, eyed his hair, and said in the most monotonous voice I've ever put on, "Your head is blue." _Genius, Mello - state the obvious why don't you?_

Matt laughed nervously, shrugging his shoulders a bit embarrassedly. "U-uhm… yeah, it is. It was accidentla… I was trying to make it darker and, um, the dye…" He shrugged helplessly, as if he honestly didn't really know how that had happened.

Statically as humanly possible I nodded to him, turned on my heel, and marched (a bit to fast considerably) into the mall without a reply. The reason for this was obvious and frank:

It was all I could do to keep from exploding into a fit of laughter right there in front of him, which I did as soon as I had ducked into the Men's Section of Express, shamelessly doubling over and holding my stomach as I laughed. I had nearly suffocated myself from lack of breath through my erratic giggles by the end of it, but after I was done I felt relieved to have gotten the humor off my chest, breathing harshly as I leaned against the wall, a giggle still popping out here and there as I wiped the funny-tears out of my eyes.

In retrospect, though, I probably should have done it a bit more discreetly, because now there were a great number of Express shoppers giving me weird looks or, in the case of the man across the store, a full-on stare down. Face flushing slightly, I made a frantic scuttle towards the door and escaped, though really, I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot until I finally shoved down the urge approaching Justice.

And oh how I hated the way Matt looked at me as I strolled in. As if I had somehow personally ridiculed him by leaving him alone in the parking lot so suddenly. Well, I mean, I guess I had, but… _god, stop the puppy eyes, plleeeaasseee…_ I could feel them _burning _into the side of my head as I headed over to L.

Said dark haired man, after a quick, unhappy glance towards the redhead - err, bluehead? - told me that I would be on register duty. With a stoic nod I turned to do so, only to have him tap my palm, regaining my attention enough to glance over my shoulder at him.

L's expression was a serious one, even more than normally so. "Don't do anything you'll regret, Mello," he mumbled. "I'd hate to see you broken again." And with that, he immediately turned and scampered away, almost as if I might attack him for such a statement. I wouldn't have, even if I could, which I couldn't - the words had frozen me there, staring at him as he left.

"…What the fuck is this, some dumb soap-opera drama?" I grumbled unhappily, highly displeased with this result. Jesus, not a whole week ago my biggest worry was… what, how my hair looked? Jesus…

Work, as it always seems to, only got more chaotic. A group of at least twenty preteen girls stormed the store at one point, every single one of them demanding a product that we had long stopped selling, had we even had it available in the first place. Girl 1 ended up cussing out poor Matt in the end, which continued at high pitches until Girl 2 grabbed her arm and dragged her off, apparently signaling that the entire mass of 12 year olds should shuffle after them. Usually in those types of situations either I would help (I was too busy pretending to obediently help a customer due to my recent attitude-adjustment) or L would. However, after the last of the little girls left I saw Matt lean over the skirt rack to find him hiding there, muttering about how, if he tilted his head at the right angle from here, it had looked like one of the girls was Michel Jackson.

Don't give me that look. It wasn't me, it was him - not my fault he's a freak.

The second and more annoying thing to happen was that I got flirted with. A lot. Most persistent as well as most irritating was a man by the name of Will.

I knew his name not because I had even been acquainted with him before this, but because he promptly leaned over the counter in a very I-am-the-shit way and purred, "Hey, hey, sexy, I'm Will. Nice to meet me?"

First impression: arrogant asshat.

Slowly, I turned to glower at him, eyes raking over him. Admittedly he wasn't bad looking, which was a bit of a surprise considering he was wearing eye shadow which I would usually condemn on men (with the exception of Adam Lambert, who doesn't count since he's a god, and certain emo-band members). I could swear that I'd seen him here before, too, but it wouldn't really be a surprise that I forgot him either - he was okay looking with defined features and shaggy dark hair, but not all that memorable compared to Ma- some people.

"You single, pretty?" he purred, giving me a shit-eating grin.

Second impression: dumbass.

"_Pretty_?" I snort, shaking my head in fake disappointment.

At this, the man frowns, a stupid looking pout emerging on his lips in disappointment. "What, you don't _want _to be pretty? Would you prefer…" Cue shit-faced grin. "Sex-"

"Not from you I wouldn't," I snap blandly, turning back to fixing the skirts on the rack; cold shoulder technique. "Look, unless you're here to buy mini-skirts for 12 year olds and glittery nail polish, you're in the wrong store, eye shadow-boy. What you're looking for is a prostitute, and I'm _not _one." I almost added _but if you head over to Wal-Mart you might find one, just look for the bruise on her face… _but didn't, since it would make him even more puzzled.

And puzzled he did look, as if baffled that I had rejected him. So baffled, in fact, he seemed to think this an impossibility and he slid in beside me, hand rather sneakily sneaking around my waist as he mumbled, "Bitch, huh? Got to say, that turns me on a little."

I have to hold back the urge to pummel him, break his nose, castrate him, and throw him into the nearest busy highway. And I would, too, but that would make a scene I wasn't too set on making right now, since I A) didn't want to be fired and B) didn't want to have even more trouble on my plate than before. So instead, I simply forcibly shove his hand away and hiss, "Back off, I'm on the job, bastard."At this, he smiled, and I realized I'd used the wrong kind of words because he placed a hand on my hip, causing me to freeze instinctively, and whispered into my ear, "After work, then, no?" And then, to my utmost horror and enragement, his hand slipped just a _little _bit too low.

I was about to snap and probably shriek, "No is right, fucker!" and break his fingers when, out of no where, Matt suddenly strolled over. IT was almost scary how he swooped in, reminding me for a moment of Batman or something. Or perhaps not, because the look on his face was rather scary. All fake-cheery and big grins and sparkles, blue hair bobbing along with his head as he walked in a rather noticeably, falsely bubbly fashion. I knew he was obviously irritated with this man, perhaps even more than me, as he narrowed his eyes at him in a rather accusing way even as the grin spread across his face.

"Can I _help you_, sir?" was what he said, but by the look in his eyes, he wanted to say _'would you mind if I stuck your dick in a blender, because I will_'. For a second, I kind of forgot I wasn't suppose to be completely in love with him, because my heart leaped joyously at the burning, pissed-off, jealous look in his eyes as he glared at the other man. I was in love with how much he suddenly seemed to care.

_And they always want what they can't have, huh?_

Just as this thought crossed my mind I felt the man's arm slip away from my waist, causing me to sigh in relief and mutter a muffled "good riddance", but his hand still lingered annoyingly close to my leg. I stepped away, turning to glare at the other man.

It occurred to me, glaring at him, even for just a moment, that… wasn't that just what I had done to Matt? Stalked him and creeped on him like that?_All the more reason to leave him alone completely now._

Still, even with this logic, it was hard not to feel elated at the way they were glaring gat one another. The conversation went as follows after that, in a confusing, awkward rush.

"What's your problem, man?" said eye shadow-man. He looked irked.

"_My _problem? What's _your _problem?" Matt hissed back, glaring at him and then daring a glance at me. I didn't meet his eyes no matter how badly I wanted to. Actually, what I wanted to do was run for it, but I didn't, of course. That would ruin my already ruined image!

"What, is he your _booyyyy_friend?" eye shadow-man laughed, clearly amused, though I was more thoroughly amused by the way he sounded like a two year old, stretching out such a word.

"Of course he's not," I say loudly, narrowing my eyes at eye shadow-man. "We're…" I pause.

Just as Matt says "Friends" I find the word I was looking for and say it over him. The word was "Coworkers". Matt gave me a hurt look, and I immediately felt evil.

It only took a few seconds now for eyeshade-man to roll his eyes and stroll out, clearly displeased but not willing to show it. I watched him go, the way he walked all shit-exactingly out the door, and I wondered if Matt felted h way I did right now when I was creeping on him. Was I ever that bad?

_Yeah probably._

"What was that?" Matt echoed, looking blank as he turned to me, wide green eyes begging for answers.

I wasn't sure what he was referring to, eye shadow-man, the question as to what we 'were', or his sudden protectiveness, but no matter the case, what I answered was a mumbled, "Nothing. Thanks for that." Then, leaving him there with that defensive, disbelieving look on his face, I strolled over to help an overly peppy Chinese girl find the right size for an I Love New York shirt.

* * *

**Err... Review?**


	12. Never Fear, NinjaSpiderMatt Is Here!

**Matt's POV**

Mello's kind of like a magnet. I'm kind of like another mag-

Wait. Scratch that. Here's a better one: I'm the magnet, and Mello is the refrigerator. Once I get too close to him, I just _stick_. Bam. But in this situation, that analogy wouldn't suffice because:

a) Mello and I are, in no means, inanimate objects in which foods are stored in or stuck onto magnetic surfaces.

b) It's kind of scary to visualize a refrigerator walking down the street with a magnet floating right behind it with the intentions of following the former home. Uh, yeah.

c) It's actually my lame excuse as to why I'm doing _this._

If you haven't caught on as to what exactly I'm doing, re-read b) again, and maybe you'll get it.

Re-read it yet? Okay, good, because I really don't want to have to say it myself. Then again, there are certain people who are slow and mightn't have gotten it; therefore, for the sake of understanding, I'm forcing myself to do it.

Okay.

I, Mail Jeevas, was following Mello home.

And Jesus, that makes it sound like a sappy movie in which a puppy follows its master to the only place it feels like it belongs. But, let me tell you, it's nothing like that, because while to me it sounds particularly pleasant to have Mello as my master, Mello looks like the type who'd kick puppies. Or babies. Or any other thing that would attempt to cling to him. No offense, Melly.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Like I'd already said, I was following Mello home. I swear, though, I have good intentions! After I saw him at work being all sad-puppy/emo/sorta-angsty, I felt...empathetic. And I had one of those moments where I have this strong urge to find out what's wrong and turn the frown upside-down. I don't get like that very often. Usually, I wouldn't care and maybe snigger at the people who don't have very high self-esteem and label themselves as 'emo.' But Mello- he's different. Mello is this...ball of energy that bounces around and occasionally hit someone in the balls. Seeing him all sad and dark and _normal _felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

I'm not going to go farther into that, otherwise this is going to turn into a big beans-spilling for me. Not that there may be any beans to spill in the first place. Ahem.

I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as I tailed Mello. He wasn't very hard to spot, considering the fact that he was wearing a bright pink shirt and no jacket. Nonetheless, I couldn't afford being too close.

I'd already ditched my vest and donned one of those black French berets. In short, I just needed some gloves, a black vest, and a red ribbon around my neck and I'd be a mime. Heh. Maybe I could steal one of Mello's vests and wear it above my shirt. Then I could come to work like a mime and not say a word all day. That'd piss some people off-

"Watch it!" someone hissed as I collided shoulders with them.

"_You_ ran into _me_," I said pointedly and childishly.

The business man snorted and scurried away.

Hmph. People-over-thirty these days.

I averted my attention to in front of me, squinting and trying to get a glimpse of Mello's back. He was farther now, and I had to hurry to catch up to him. Damn business man.

The walk lasted for about three more minutes; it was rather short, so I wondered why Mello opted to take his motorcycle to work anyway. Whatever.

Mello stopped outside an apartment complex, and I noted with some amusement that it didn't seem very different from mine. Mello walked through the door, and after a fifteen-second hesitation, I followed. I came in just in time to see him disappear down a corridor.

I was right behind him the whole way there. He never noticed me, and I was so overjoyed at the fact that I may have finally become a ninja that I didn't notice the problem until it slammed itself into my face. Literally.

The sound of Mello slamming his door close resonated around the empty hall. I think I stood there in front of the door for about a full minute, grinning like an idiot. And I realized that unlike me, Mello actually had a working lock, and he actually locked his door. And if I knocked and he answered, he would never let me in.

Cue Matt's ingenious mind coming up with an idea.

_I know! I'll just climb up through the fire escape!_

As you might have been able to deduce already, the idea wasn't very bright.

It turned out that seemed impossible to scale the side of a building to the second floor, finally figure out which balcony was Mello's, and attempt to climb over the railing without falling down to the rush hour below. Unless you were Superman, Batman, or Lady GaGa, then you'd be in the same situation as I was in: currently hanging on the railing, trying not to become something alike to pigeon poop splayed out on the sidewalk.

I did the only thing I could think of. "Mello!" I shrieked like a banshee. "Mell-Oh my god, Mello! Come outside!"

It didn't take very long for the rest to unfold. The balcony doors were thrown open and Mello stormed into view, demanding, "What?" Then he seemed to register the scene, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Matt? What the hell?"

"Help me," I practically sobbed. "Dear god, help me."

"Here." In less than a second, Mello's hand was encasing my own and he was reaching down for my other hand. "Give me your other hand. Shit, Matt. Hurry."

"Oh my god," I continued to hyperventilate. _This is where my slight fear of heights become a nuisance, _I thought bitterly. "Mello, Mello, don't let go."

"I'm not."

"Please, please, please don't let go."

"Damn it Matt, I'm _not_ letting go, so quit squirming so I can pull you up!"

"Okay. Sorry. It's just-oh, freaking noodles-gah, pull me up, pull me up!" By the end of that, I was almost shrieking again. With another tug, Mello managed to bring me halfway over the railing. I scrabbled my feet desperately against the metal, and finally, I found a purchase and catapulted myself forward and fell promptly on top of Mello.

Goddammit, that's so cliche. Now all we need is a love confession and-

"Oh my god, I love you," I breathed without really thinking about my word choice. I curled up on top of Mello tightly, bunching his t-shirt into my hands.

I couldn't see his face, but his voice was proof enough that he was pissed. "Yeah," he growled, "I love you too, you little tw-" He cut himself off with another low growl from the back of his throat.

I sat up quickly, eyes wide in amazement. "You...were going to insult me!" I said joyously, completely forgetting the near-death incident that had happened a little over a minute ago.

A mask of impassiveness fell upon Mello's face. He propped himself up on his forearms and glared pointedly at somewhere in the distance, not looking at me. "Will you get off of me?"

That was it! I did a little victory dance. While I was still, you know, sitting on Mello's lap. I didn't notice though, because I was too busy feeling victorious. I'd found Mello's weak spot!

"You're such an idiot," Mello muttered. "Can you get off now?"

"Hey Mels," I said sweetly, leaning down so that our noses touched. "I love you!"

This time, his cheeks turned a nice hue of pink. "Get off."

"But I love you!" I repeated with a laugh. Then I pouted. "Aren't you going to say that you love me too?"

He cussed under his breath in some different language before pushing me off. He stood, turned on his heel, and stomped back inside. I blinked and re-composed myself, shaking my head and standing up as well. I came in after him, looking around in curiosity. "Finally," I said with a thoughtful hum, "I have seen where this creature we call Mello lives." It actually _was _interesting. I'd had a very different idea of where Mello would live, and it was nowhere close to the scene in front of me. There were books stacked neatly on a shelf. I caught a glimpse of the _Illiad _and some other classics. With the TV, couch, coffee table, and balled-up chocolate wrappers, everything looked...normal.

Huh. Weird.

Mello was already in his kitchen, rummaging around and looking for something. I stepped into the kitchen and took in the sight.

"Hey Mello," I called.

Mello slowly turned to face me and I could see the restrain he had to put on himself from strangling me. "Hm?"

"I love you."

At that, he blushed furiously once more. Suddenly angry, he shoved past me back into the living room.

Okay, I don't get it. The real Mello would have made some sarcastic remark. I'm not trying to imply that the real Mello may have been abducted by leprechauns or whatever, but the way he was acting made it seem like it.

"Mels?" I said absentmindedly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He gave me a small smile. "Um, do you mind leaving now? I...have to take a shower." _Maybe I want to stick around for that. Oh god, Matt, mind out of the gutter..._

"Oh." I made a face of disappointment. "Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you something..."

"Is that why you scaled two stories to get to me...?" he interjected.

"...but now I forgot. It's okay though, because I have another question," I finished.

Mello looked tired. "If I answer, will you leave? Not to sound rude or anything."

Real Mello would have said, "No, now get your ass out before I do it myself. And of course I mean to sound rude." I shook off the vibes I was getting and said, "Sounds like a deal. You ready for it?" He nodded. "Okay...why do you look all painful when I say that I love you?"

Mello grimaced. "I-I don't l-look like that. I have no problem with that whatsoever."

"See?" I pointed at his face, trying to prove it. "You made a face! You have a problem with me saying that I love you!"

"I do not!" Mello protested. "And you promised that you'd leave once I answered your question, so-"

"Do you have commitment issues or something?" I asked, dramatically throwing my arms into the air. "Jeez! What if I was only joking?" I'd only been half serious. No, actually, make that a fourth serious. Commitment issues didn't sound like something that would define Mello, yet...

Mello's expression turned dark. He glowered at me. "Get out."

I quickly tried to backtrack. "I was only kidding, I swear-"

"Out."

"Mello-" Before I could finished, he grabbed the collar of my shirt in one hand and threw the door open with the other. He tossed me out literally and I collided into the hall headfirst. Wincing, I forced myself to quit being a sissy and scrambled to my feet. "Mel-" But he'd already slammed the door shut.

* * *

**Mello's POV**

Holy—

God damn—

Oh my—

Shit—

Mostly incapable of forming complete sentences in my mind at that point, I slammed the door as hard as I could. Usually I would have been super pissed at myself for doing this, because slamming the door = the horrible neighbors coming over to complain about my "violent behavior", but I right then I didn't care – my mind had short circuited after all.

So instead of cursing at myself I collapsed against the door, sliding down onto my butt.

Slowly, my mind came back into working order, and I could think again.

Really, you couldn't blame me for acting like this. I come home expecting to have a joyful day of crying over _The Lovely Bones_ and drowning my sorrows in the glory of chocolate gelato. Instead, I got home only to find Matt-gone-Spiderman off my balcony and screaming like a banshee for me to save him. Then, like every single cheesy shojo manga ever, he just had to fall on me like that. That would have been acceptable and _maybe _even secretly enjoyable, if he hadn't suddenly said… _that – that _being "Oh god, I love you".

Cue Mello hyperventilating here.

Yeah, I admit it – it freaked me out. A lot. Not just because of my stupid commitment issues (alright, so maybe a lot of it was that…) but _also_ because… I don't know, it just shocked me. I knew the roles had been reversed for a while now, at least to a certain extent, but I had never expected him to break into my home and _confess his love to me._ I mean really, what dimension do we live in now?

And oh, of course, he said it again. And again. And _again. _The count, and I _did _count, was six, and each one freaked me out even more. Confused me more than most things do.

The first time he said it, and perhaps also the second, I had immediately assumed he _meant it. _That, of course, scared the daylights out of me, so much so that I slipped back into my old persona with the whole, "I love you too, you little twit," that I so brilliantly cut off. Which scared me even more, because Matt – who was giving me that adorable look all situated on my lap that way – was making me slip. And, painfully so, I had meant those words I said.

But then of course I shoved him off, struggling to keep my mask off. But he'd seen my weak spot, little bastard, and kept on persisting with the 'I love you's. It was about the fourth time that I realized he was only saying it to get me to crack and tell him what was going on, and it was when he said "What if I had only been joking?" that I knew for certain he hadn't meant it. And maybe, just maybe, that hurt more than anything else, panicked me more than anything else, because for a second there, I'd gotten my hopes up.

I had thought I was better than that. I'd thought I'd trained myself not to feel like that, to give in to those fantasies…

"Mells… come on, let me in. Let me explain, please…"

I could hear him on the other side of the door, but I wasn't listening to him, not really. I was burying my face in my knees, back pressed against the door as if he could try to push it open (he couldn't, it was locked, and he certainly wasn't some sort of ninja that could kick down the door, but none the less the impulse was still there). I didn't want to deal with that again, didn't want to be in that kind of relationship where I loved him so much and he'd never truly return the feelings – it would hurt too much if he never liked me back, and if he ever learned to love me, I knew I'd be a horrible boyfriend anyway.

So instead of listening to him when he pleaded confusedly, "What the heck..? Mell? Come now, don't make me ninja-kick this door down…" I pressed my back further against the door and replied,

"Please just go away."

I held my breath as I heard him comply on the other side. I could hear the way he dragged out his steps as he walked, steps that suggested that he wanted me to burst out the door with a sudden change of heart, to throw myself to my knees and beg for him to stay. But of course, I didn't, and I only let the breath flee my lungs when I heard the echo of footsteps going down the stairs.

Carefully I picked myself up, shoulders drooping as I dragged myself across the room and flopping onto my hideous couch. Grabbed my chocolate gelato and remove, the two things that seemed to have never been ruined, and muttered, "Now, where were we?"

Ah, yes - the dragging Suzy into the "clubhouse" scene. Absolutely fantastic.

* * *

I woke up on the couch – I'd fallen asleep in the middle of my sixth movie – Sweeny Todd - and a bag of chocolate chips, which were currently lying on that dumb tilted coffee table. Groaning loudly to myself I struggled to get up out of bed, feeling hungover for some reason.

Okay, so not "some reason". I had a few drinks last night. But shut your dumb mouth – I can drink if I damn wanna, it's not illegal.

Groaning, I stretched until my back finally cracked before sliding into my tiny shower, taking quite possibly the quickest shower ever since my damn neighbors used up all the shared hot water. I didn't have to go to work today, therefore wouldn't be seeing Matt, so I just dried off quickly with a towel and got into my usual attire for school.

It felt good to be in leather again. Insert happy sigh here.

After getting around to looking like my old self – finally – again, I threw on some converse boots and a jacket and headed out. I would be really early getting to the University, but that would be okay – I liked being among the early birds (minus Near) and flirting with random people. At least, usually.

Today, however, I wasn't honest in the mood. I just strutted onto compass and sat at an empty table, pulling a book out of my bag and getting around to studying. Collage classes were difficult – well, more difficult than high school at least – and I studied probably a lot more than I had to. But of course I did – I was at the top of my class, minus that damn Near who was at first place, but he was set for life thanks to super-rich parents and didn't have a job or friends to distract him from his practically 24/7 studying routine so he didn't even fucking count.

Still, even engrossed in studying, I kept picturing Matt in my head. Matt in one of those pervy neko-suits, Matt just being Matt, Matt in an apron, Matt in _only _an apron, Matt waggling his butt in my face like that one time, Matt kissing me, Matt's failing-but-adorable dance skills, Matt's dorky grin, Matt's dorky grin while in a maid costume, Matt—

"Fuck it all," I groaned, shutting my book in frustration. This was no way to be if I wanted to be successful thanks to these courses.

Suddenly Halle was sitting beside me, a grin on her face. She was my buddy from highschool who had somehow ended up at the same University as me, though she was nowhere close to being at the top of the class with me, and by the look in her eyes she knew just exactly how frustrated I was.

Because she was Halle, however, the first thing she asked was, "Having sexual tension or somethin', Mello?"

I snorted, crossing my arms on the table and leaning to rest my chin on them. "No," I grumbled, shifting unhappily when this position proved uncomfortable. Then I frowned. "Well, sort of, but sex is just a tiny part of it."

Halle studied me for a second before replying, "Is this about a guy?"

I groan. She knew me too well. "Maybe," I mutter.

Now, Halle was grinning, seeming to be extremely proud of herself, as if this revelation was her doing and her doing alone. "A-ha! So you're finally giving into your desires for a relationship again – victorious is I!"

"How the fuck is this _your _victory?" I asked bewilderedly, sitting up again and giving up on comfort thanks to these stupid table benches.

Halle laughed. "Well because I had a bet with Weddy, duh!"

I sigh. "Of course you did," I said, rolling my eyes; I twisted my position so that I was leaning on the table, a slightly more comfortable position but not really. Man, I was tense… "That's just fine and dandy, but you'll be sad to know that I have _not_ given in – the guy's freakin' adorable, but…"

"Not your type?" Halle offered.

I scoffed. "Nope, totally my type – the problem is that-"

"You have commitment issues!" Halle cut in brilliantly, laughing as I shot her a death-glare. She used to be afraid of me when I did that, but after years of highschool together she finally caught on that I'm not the type to beat the shit out of my friends, especially not the female ones. She'd become immune to it.

I sigh. "I do _not _have commitment issues; I just find that commitment is scary."

"That's the same thing."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Dude, for being so smart, you sure are an idiot, Mel."

"Gee, for such a pretty girl, you're pretty damn annoying."

"Hey now!"

This back-and-fourth tease/insult fight ended with us having one of those ridiculous, nerdy/girly slap fights, the kind with squeaking and squealing and turning our heads away from one another while we "fought". IT wasn't a serious fight, obviously – we'd had or two of those before, and it ended with me having a broken nose and a major pain in my side for weeks, her with one broken rib and a black eye, and both of us with plenty of bruises to go around. Both times, though, we ended up laughing and flopping back down, amazed at our own stupidity.

Just as we were going through the lol-we-are-such-dorks moment Weddy strolled past, shaking her head at us. "You're both such girls."

Halle pouted. "Hey, I have an excuse. I _am _a girl!"

"Shut your mouth, Weddy," was my only reply, save for throwing my messenger bag at her (which she caught), because I didn't have such an excuse.

Weddy rolled her eyes and chucked it back at me, having it hit my chest with a thud. "Get to class."

And so we did, all breaking off to our separate classes. For the moment, Matt was forgotten; I was distracted by thoughts of Weddy and Halle and various facts and terms I needed to remember for this class.

And with this disregard, I was even more shocked than I would have been normally when I finally got home.

**A/N: Dun… dun… dun? Dude this had so much pointless angst like always with me, and then it turned around and was completely stupid as hell. XD I loved F's part, though, but please forgive the utter lameity of mine. I'm grounded but I got a few hours on here, so I kind of rushed it :'( my apologies to all of you, especially you, Atreyl – my part fails in comparison! XDD Love, Holli  
**

**Care to review?**


	13. The Cake Philosophy

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, folks. Atreyl and I (especially I) have been busy with school and the works. But hey, here's your next chapter! Excited..? :D

* * *

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**Matt's POV**

I can honestly say that I don't know how it came to this: me in Mello's apartment _yet again_ with said blond standing on the other side of the table, arguing about whether or not to eat the damn cake.

"I _made _it for you!" I emphasized on the 'made,' knowing that he probably thought that I just bought it or whatever. People always accepted gifts, right? Especially if that gift cost them two hours of their time and lots of flour and frosting...

"Well, I didn't ask for you to make me a cake," Mello retorted. "Besides, you claim you made this, but you can't draw flowers worth crap." He pointed at a particular design on the cake: a purple flower that I had, several times, been tempted to lick off.

My eyes narrowed to slits. "Are you doubting my artistic abilities?"

Mello shrugged. "You can't doubt what doesn't exist."

"Why you-!" I roared, almost leaping over the table at him. That would have destroyed the cake, so I went around the table instead.

Mello stepped away from my reaching grasp. "I can call this rape," he told me as a matter-of-factly. "And then report you for sexual harassment."

_Look who's talking, _I thought sourly. "It's just a freaking cake," I said after I grabbed for the millionth time and he dodged for the millionth time. "I even made everything chocolate flavored." I sighed defeatedly, slumping down into a chair. I was already slipping into depression mode; Mello could sure be cruel when he wanted to...

Hesitation flickered in his eyes. "Chocolate?" he asked timidly, sounding mildly interested.

I perked up. Yes! I had him! "Yeah, chocolate," I replied, keeping my bland tone. "Chocolate bread, chocolate icing in the middle, chocolate frosting, and those flowers have little Hershey kisses hidden in the middle." I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to think of anything else. "Oh yeah, and there's that big fat glob of chocolate filling in the middle of the cake."

By this time, Mello looked lucid. He stared at me for a few seconds, contemplating. "You're lying," he said finally.

"I'm not!" I said indignantly. _Great, here we go again..._

Oh, crap. Right. Uh, you're still here. Well, before I get too ahead of myself, I guess I should tell you exactly why we were in that situation in the first place, why I was wearing a suit, and why Mello's kitchen had been mysteriously decorated when he came home.

That had been my brilliant idea. I woke up in the morning with a headache for no particular reason, eyes bloodshot and throat feeling like sandpaper. Once in my living room, I slumped down on the couch and groaned loudly, punching the cushions lightly. I could imagine what Mello would have said if he were here...

_"I thought you were more mature than this," Mello sighed and shook his head disappointedly._

"I _am _mature!" I wailed, wiggling around to lie on my back. I was just about to glare when I realized that Mello wasn't here.

Oh, right. That was my imagination.

I gulped, massaging my temples. _Get a hold of yourself! _I thought.

_But what if Mello hates me?_ a voice thought back.

_He doesn't hate you, _I assured it. _All you did was follow him home like he had._

_But he kicked me out! _the voice said in hysteria.

_Yeah, _I agreed, _but that was only because you implied that he had commitment issues and-CRAP!_

"Why the fuck did I do that!" I exclaimed. "God Matt, you're such an idiot!" I pinched myself, pouting. "Now Mello hates me." I kicked the armrest of the couch and stared at it in dissatisfaction. "And I was even talking to a voice in my head," I muttered. "And...I'm talking to myself. Shit." I sat up, running a hand through my hair. "I need something to do," I announced to my empty living room.

My eyes roamed around, trying to find said thing. My gaze landed on the half-closed door of my bedroom. My dresser was just visible through the slight opening. "Aha!" I said like a complete dork, rushing forward. "I'll clean out my closet!" I praised my smartness as I walked into my room.

And then, I realized how long it had been since I'd cleaned my closet.

I scratched the back of my neck, trying to remember. How long had I been here? Three years? I used to have a huge suitcase that contained a truckload of clothes, but all I ever liked to use were my striped shirts. The rest, I remembered, were still stashed in that suitcase. Now, where was the suitcase...?

I dropped down to my fours and peeked down under my bed, then grinned in victory. I reached in a yanked out the suitcase by its handle, bringing it out into the open. Unfortunately, with the suitcase also came a cloud of dust, which floated into my slightly open mouth and caused me to cough for a good few minutes (damn dust!).

Rubbing my eyes, I groped for the zipper, finally finding it and opening the bag. A bunch of clothes popped out and threw themselves upon me.

"Stupid clothes," I groaned when I found myself coughing again. "Stupid, stupid- Oh hey, it's my 1-Up shirt!" I held up the shirt to the light, smiling at the green mushroom smack dab on the middle of it. I set it to the side, mentally reminding myself to add it to my 3-clothed wardrobe later.

I dug around for the next few minutes, occupying myself with deciding whether or not the shirts would still fit me. My eyes widened in shock when I got to the bottom of the suitcase, because there, in all its glory...was a tux.

Dress shirt, bow, all of that stuff, and heck, there were even a pair of shiny black shoes to go with it!

I gazed in fascination as I spread it out on the floor and smoothed away the wrinkles.

And five minutes later, you guessed it: I was standing in front of my mirror in the tuxedo, grinning goofily as I attempted to comb down my rat's nest of hair. Amazingly, the tuxedo still fit me even though I had no idea why the heck I even owned one in the first place. I made a few poses in front of my reflection like a complete dork.

I suppose that that was when the idea first came to me. The fact that Mello was pissed at me weighed heavily at the back of my mind, and while I was studying my form, I imagined Mello in that dress again, beside me and holding my arm. We were being led by a waiter in a fancy restaurant to a seat in a secluded corner of the room, and when we reached our table, I pulled back the chair and Mello smiled sweetly at me and sat down. Then-

"I've got it!" I whooped. I snatched my keys from my bedside table and _ran_, my destination being the party store down the street...

I felt like an Energizer bunny that just ran five blocks and back, then about twenty more blocks to Mello's because the bunny forgot to take his car.

Yeah.

As you might have surmised, I got a lot of weird looks. Jeez, it's not _that _a big of a deal. It's not like it's that strange to see a man in a tuxedo hurtling down the sidewalk while trying to balance a shopping bag and a cake in his arms at the same time. Wait. Ugh, crap.

Anyway, yes, I admit it: I didn't really bake the cake. But it's the thought that counts, right? Right?

I was so caught up in the brilliance of my idea that several problems didn't hit me until I was standing in front of Mello's apartment complex looking like a, yes, unbrilliant idiot. Chest heaving, arms secured tightly around the cake(thank god it somehow survived the run), I strode into the apartment building and to Mello's front door.

I set the cake and...other stuff(tablecloth, candles, everything you need for a cheesy romantic apology dinner) down to the side as I knocked on the door.

Mello wouldn't kick me out again. Of course not. I got him a cake, dammit! _I DESERVE APPRECIATION!_

Ahem.

I knocked again when there was no answer. Was Mello out? Huh, I thought he had off today... Oh well, it'd work to my advantage.

Feeling around in the back of my hair, I slipped out a bobby pin (um, don't ask) and got down on my knees. Immediately, I began working on picking the lock. Mello could be home any minute and I needed all the time I could get.

The lock was no match for my skills. Satisfied, I tucked the bobby pin back into my hair, picked up the cake and shopping bag, and went inside.

As soon as I stepped in, a strong scent of chocolate blasted over me. It felt warm and homey and it made me want to curl up on the floor and sleep.

I shook my head; I couldn't get distracted!

I closed the door and locked it so that when Mello came home, something would at least seem natural. Then I wandered around, trying to find his kitchen, where a small table sat in the middle of the room.

I put the cake on the counter and took out the tablecloth, laying it on top of the wooden table. Next was the fake rose I'd managed to find, and it went on the center of the cloth. The chocolate-scented candles (yeah, I didn't know they sold them either) went beside the rose and I lit them with my lighter. Once it added to the room's sweet aroma, I rummaged around for plates and utensils. I noted, with a chuckle, that Mello had those fancy spoons and forks, with roses and vines carved into the stainless steel. I took a moment to admire them before setting the table as best as I could ("The fork goes on the right, and the spoon goes on the left... Wait, no! It's the other way around. Hm, nah, that doesn't sound right. I'm confused! Stupid fork!").

And when everything was set, I unveiled the cake and placed it gingerly in front of the roses and candles. It just so happened that the door sounded like it was being unlocked, most likely by Mello.

So I took a deep breath, adjusted the bow around my neck, and turned around. I plastered a smile on my face, though I didn't have to try so hard.

_CUE SPARKLY TIME AS TO NOT BE KICKED OUT AGAIN!

* * *

_

**Mello**

I'll admit it. That smile got me. It got me _good._ I had fully planned on marching over there, spinning him around by his shoulder and shoving him straight out that door again. Maybe even slam the door in his face for good measure.

Well, I mean, who wouldn't? He had struck out:

He snuck into my house after our quite fuming fight not even 24 hours before this. _STRIKE ONE!_

He _redecorated_ my _dining room_ and used my _good silverware_ to do it. _STRIKE TWO!_

He even had the nerve to try and pretend like he made the damn cake he made me even when my kitchen was perfectly clean and void of any cake-making signs, and he should have known I noticed that his kitchen was in no shape to be making ANYTHING in that disgusting oven of his (mine isn't either really…). _STRIKE THREE._

And to top it all off, he expected me to just immediately be fine with him and have dinner with him? As if.

His blather of explanation (which was just barely understandable) didn't do much to convince me either…

But that _smile._ Damn Matt – he might not have made that cake, but he made _himself_. He had his hair brushed out for once, done neatly around his ears though those few stubborn hairs continued to stick out here and there in the most adorable fashion. He'd gotten himself into a _tux_ – _why on earth does Matt own a TUXEDO? _– Which he looked absolutely debonair in (yeah, I use words like debonair, shut the fuck up I spent most of my teen life with _L_ what do you expect!). He even had those little black dress shoes and a tie cutely done around his neck in a just perfectly imperfect fashion.

And, no matter what he was wearing or what his hair was doing, that smile was one to make an angel swoon. His grin was wide and wavering, showing a wide set of the perfect white teeth braces supply, puppy-dog eyes that shone with innocent hopefulness, begging me not to kick him out, clearly irresistible even behind those damn orange tinted goggles. He practically fucking _sparkled_ with that damn smile. I was on the edge with just those things, but what finally sent me over into defeat were those absolutely adorable dimples that peeked out on his lightly freckled cheeks.

My head sinks downwards in defeat, a heavy sigh escaping my lungs.

"Fine, have it your way… I'll eat the stupid cake."

From behind my bangs I can see Matt's face drop into a light but genuine smile, releasing a quiet hum of satisfaction. "Good."

Before I could even move he suddenly swept past me, hooking his arm around mine. I blinked in surprise as he did this, blushing despite myself in astonishment, head jerking up to look at him. He suddenly had this shit eating smile on his face, chuckling quietly to himself as he tugged me gently towards one side of the surprisingly beautifully set table. I gave him a disbelieving look as he scooted the chair out for me, motioning gallantly for me to sit.

After a few seconds of giving him the classic "what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you-you-idiot" face I allowed myself to slide into the chair, eying the cake as I did so. As soon as Matt had plopped himself into the seat adjacent from me, I found myself muttering, "God, Nice Ass, you're such a dork…"

Contrary to the previous times I'd called him this, Matt's face actually lights up. Then, he cried, "A-HAH! YOU CALLED ME _NICE ASS!_" Insert accusing finger point here. "Three points for the Matt-Hatter!"

Seeing as I had absolutely _no _response to that one I choose to ignore him (and his corny pun) in favor of reaching over to snatch myself a piece of chocolate cake. Weather he made it or not regardless hardly mattered – it looked absolutely delicious.

After promptly getting myself a piece of cake and ignoring the awkward silence between us, I went for my silverware. As I took my fork, I found a tiny smile tweak my lips despite myself – _he put the fork on the wrong side… why is that so (dare I say it?) cute…?_

Mister breaking-and-entering over there seemed to catch my smile too, because his own smile widened. "Impressive, right?" he inquired hopefully.

I snorted, shaking my head and piercing my fork into the cake. "No," I mumbled thoughtlessly. "You put the fork on the wrong side, twit."

Mr. breaking-and-entering blushes now, face contorting into exaggerated rage as he snatches up the fork on his own side, glaring at it as if it was the sole reason for the death of a loved one or something and grumbling, "Damn fork…"

I would have laughed at him, probably, if A) I wasn't trying to be unfriendly as possible and B) I hadn't already shoved a giant piece of cake into my mouth. It definitely wasn't homemade or anything, but _my god_ it was delicious. It had to have been expensive, too – if it hadn't, it would have been dry and chunky, of which this cake was neither.

I ignore Matt's laughter as I struggle to keep my face apathetic whilst indulging in delicious, delicious cake. _Oh, cake… chocolate cake… mmm…_

Well, screw that - my expression broke into a smile, and I don't really try to stop it. Between Matt's awkward grin and this delicious cake, I can't help it. I mean really, who could? However, this giddy feeling slips away rather quickly when Matt's smile falters.

When I look up at him, the smile vanishes completely; mine slips away too, and I swallow my giant bite of cake. Matt doesn't speak, but there's a definite question on his lips, and I know I must have the answer.

I shrink back against the chair, taking another bite of cake, more to stall than anything else. I swallow. Matt opens his mouth as if to say something again, but then closes his mouth again. Says, "Like that cake?" There's a smile in his question, and it makes me grin, but the question is the wrong one. The right one is still on his lips, still unspoken.

I take another bite of cake. Mumble around it, "Mmphfneh, mehnh hhnm, mofahon." Believe it or not, that was actually "_Obviously, you moron_" before the cake got in the way. Matt smiles. I swallow, and go in for another bite. Apparently my bites are rather too large, though, because my fork comes up short – I've ran out of stalling-cake.

_Wait a second. _I scowl at my own stupidity for a moment, putting the fork down and ignoring the puzzled look I receive from Matt across the table. _What the hell am I doing? Getting all worked up over this? I'm not a stupid little school girl, I am the almighty and awesome MELLO, and I can take this emotional shit and shove it right up Matt's tight little ass if I wanted to; why should I be getting all uncertain over myself? Dear Jesus, it's like…_

"Mel, we kind of need to talk now."

I feel a mental sweat drop run down my forehead (teehee, anime reference… shut up), resolve faltering as I looked back up at Matt. He's peering at me through those dorky orange-tinted goggles now, a sloped smile still drawing over his face, though it's lopsided and tentative enough to tell me that he's not too happy about the whole "talking" thing either.

I shrug, putting on my best sarcastic grin. "Oh, so you broke into my apartment for a reason _other_ than feeding me delicious homemade cake?" (I know it's not homemade, but hey, let him have his moment of pride…)

Matt apparently doesn't see the humor in it, or if he does, it doesn't show in his reply or slouched sigh. "Yeah, I…" Matt bit his lip for a second, averting his gaze to the unfinished cake on the table before mumbling, "I was worried, I guess."

You have no idea how tempted I was to make a witty, teasing, sarcasm-filled flirt right then. With the combination of his adorable worried expression and my own sugar-high thanks to Mr. Cake over there, it was almost impossible not to. But I managed, for I am the almighty Mello and what shit, so I rested my chin on my palm and, without looking at him, I mumbled, "Why would you be worried about me?"

Cue emotional, shitty dialogue here.

Matt: Because you're acting like someone else lately… I was beginning to think that the bunnies had gotten you and replaced you with one of their clone-people without me noticing…

Mello: _…Bunnies?_" (Disbelieving what-the-fuck stare from Mello, stage right.)

Matt: Um.

Mello: … (Dismissive hand wave)

Matt: What I mean to say is that you were acting like more of an asshole than usual. (Shrug.) I mean, seriously, you're usually a perverted jackass but now you're just acting like… like…

Mello: (Snort) Glad to see that you think so highly of me.

Cue long, awkward pause.

Mello: (shoves more chocolate in face in hopes of curing own anxiety.)

Matt: (awkward laugh)

Cue more awkward pause.

Matt: … (looks down) why'd… why'd you kick me out?

Mello: (is a lying bastard) You snuck in through my _window._ What did you think you were, Spiderman?

Matt: (peeks up through bangs – is an adorable little jerk) Um… a ninja, actually.

Mello: (raises an eyebrow)

Cue sudden change of atmosphere here.

Matt: We need to figure out what we're going to do, Mel. I don't… I don't want to do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to say anything you don't want to say, because I know some secrets are just meant to be kept for the time being, but…. I don't want you to keep pushing me away completely like this.

This is when I have to stop putting this story into a theatrical format. Because that's just my way of hiding what I was feeling, of detaching myself from the actual scene going through, and that's not fair, is it?

To be honest with you, honest with _myself_… my heart had dropped to my stomach, and I could hear its desperate beating in my ears, shrieking at me to do something, _anything._ My heart wanted him more than I ever expected, wanted me to reach across the table and embrace him, to beg him to stay with me, to _love_ me, to love me and love me until I was sure enough to love him back. A certain _other_ organ wanted to go along with my heart and then promptly throw him to the couch and ravish him, to _force him_ to love me, if only for a few long, lustful moments.

But looking up at him now, at that searching puppy-dog expression, my brain knows better. Listening to my stupid, messed up heart will only hurt him, and I know it, even if _he _doesn't. Matt might be wrong about his sexuality, might even like me now – I don't know anymore, to be perfectly honest – and he might be totally wrong about everything and anything, but… now that he was looking at me, asking _me _for the answers, that very knowledge had to hold me back. It had to be his decision, had to be on his own that he found who he was, what he wanted to do with himself.

If that equation ended up including me… great – he'd have Mr. Perfect-Looks and Shitty-Personality waiting to lavish him if we ever got to that point.

And if it didn't, well… so be it. I didn't deserve him anyway. He was just so much more than a good fuck, and to be honest, I don't think I'm any more ready for anything more than he is.

Until then?

Slowly, I reach out my hand, tentatively resting it on his. After a moment of hesitation, he moves to more comfortably hold my hand, looking up at me with a quizzical expression. I only stare at our hands, not having the strength to look at him as I say, "We should try being friends again, Matty. It's… the best thing for us."

Matt's expression blanks out. I can't tell of he's stung, relieved, apathetic, or angry, but he only squeezes my hand and lets a smile slip across his face. "Alright. Friends, then."

And so it was.

**A/N: Cue readers going AHWWW, DAMMIT. :D Story's not over yet, folks – keep on crossing your fingers that Mel will stop being so stubborn, yeah? X3 Hope you enjoyed this one – it was awfully belated, so D: yeah. XD'**

**Reviews make my heart sing and rainbows and sparkles appear in my BG. Get the picture? **

**~Holli**


	14. Two Stupid, Awkward Ninnies and a Cat

**A/N: Just a heads up, there's some serious bashing of a certain fandom in this chapter. Sorry if you happen to like what comes up, but I'd just like to remind you that Mello's opinion is not my own XD I don't really hate the fandom at all, in fact there was a phase at which I liked it, so really this is making fun of myself – I know so much about what happens during those movies because I HAVE GONE TO IT TWICE. XD So don't get mad at me, ok? (:**

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**Mello's POV**

"HOLY SHIT! MATT! COME BACK! FUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK IT ALLLLLLL!" I shrieked, pounding my fist into the wall. This did more damage to my poor knuckles than the stupid-ass drywall, but it made no difference – I was too busy wanting to tear my own hair out.

Okay, so yeah, I made a reasonable decision, I get it. But seriously, you have no idea how much I wanted to throw myself out the window and hope he'd catch me when he left after _that_ day, _especially_ after he turned and gave me this dorky little wave-wink combo on his way to his car.

Now, of course, he did not hear my wild, crazed dialogue (thank god, how embarrassing would that have been?) and drove off completely oblivious to my sudden change of thought process. I guess I was back to my old self after all…

Releasing a shrill groan and not particularly caring if the neighbors called the cops I grabbed the remainder of the cake, a carton of milk, and my Snuggie (say one word and I kick you in the groin, git) and collapsed onto the couch to watch a few hours of TV to get my mind off of it.

However, I immediately got an anxious, very uncomfortable pretty much everywhere. Sliding my Snuggie off I shed my leather vest – this did not help. Huffing, I peeled off my leather pants as well, but even standing there naked I felt constricted and anxious. Letting out an aggregated sigh I returned to the couch (but only after cuddling back into my Snuggie) grabbed my cake and milk carton (yeah, I drink right out of the carton sometimes, so what?) and decided to just wait it out.

I passed out eight hours of TV, studying, and eating later, dressed in only a Snuggie, cake eaten, brain rotted, and still riddled with anxiety.

I woke up to a back ache, a killer headache, the dim sounds of the morning news, and the horrible realization that I had no idea what I was going to do when I got to work today.

There was a completely OCD part of me that wanted to plan it out in my head, try to mark out exactly how I was going to act around him to make sure everything went _perfectly_, but the rest of me discarded this idea. First of all, things like that never work out, and second, well… there was an even bigger part of me that wanted this to work out on its own, for things to simply work between us (for friendship or otherwise) because we are who we _are,_ not some planned-out version of ourselves.

Yep. That's what I told myself. Definitely not just because I was clueless when it came to friendship… yep, definitely not that…

Absolutely…

Anyway I was pretty sure of myself and my righteousness on the topic until I arrived at Justice – had secured a place in Matt's heart as for then, even if it was just as friends, and for the most part I was feeling pretty damn good except for perhaps the eerie realization that I was beginning to actually get _used_ to the Justice atmosphere… oh lord. Not good. But other than that… yeah, pretty good mood.

I was just taking my place at the cahier's counter when I realized my mistake: Matt showed up like he always did, exactly three minutes late, trying his very hardest to look casual and cool and like he wasn't late at all but was failing epically at it, before finally reaching the counter and diving behind it (and behind me) – I realized I had no idea how to treat him now. Or previous "friendship" had consisted of me stalking him, him blushing, me hitting on him, him blushing or returning the favor, and if the later happened, I would return it two times worse and he would blush. That was it.

This realization hit me like a ton of rocks, because I knew it couldn't just keep going like that, as much fun as that was… could it?

"Hey," I say with a fake chuckle, eyeing him from his place on the floor. _Ohh, nice crouch there Matty, I'd hit tha— _woahh, bad thoughts! Bad thoughts! Mind out of the gutter, Mello!

But then, getting your mind out of the gutter once it's lived there all its life is difficult to do… _gah._

Matt doesn't seem to notice me internally smacking myself, peering semi-nervously over the counter with shifty-eyes. "Did L see me come in?"

"Don't know, I think he's in his office," I tell him carefully, pretending to look around the store whilst actually just staring Matt down from the corner of my eye. My thoughts are running on overdrive, for once at a loss as to what to say to him: _What do I say, just 'hey Matt, we're friends now, let's frolic?' I mean really, wha— whoa, Matt don't stretch like that when you stand up, that's damn enticing… fucking hell, Mello, stop having weird thoughts about your _friend._ But man, he's perfect… except he really needs to get rid of that blue hair already; I don't know what the hell, I barely noticed it before I was so distracted but damn... he was so much sexier with the r- er…_

The thought-searching wasn't working in the slightest, and now Matt was giving me a funny look. "What?"

"Uh, nothing," I manage, flashing him my best sweet smile – which I'm pretty sure makes him go pale with horror, by the way, so it's not really much of a "best" – before turning back to help some petite Asian girl with a flirty smile already plastered on her lips. God, I'm so not in the mood for this…

"Hey there, I'm Natalie," she purrs, except the way she says it sounds more like Nahtahlay.

Just as I'm about to tell Nahtahlay to shut up and buy something Matt appears beside me, a sickly sweet smile on his face as he bumps me out of the way and grins at her. Before I can imagine what the hell he's thinking he says in a shockingly sweet tone, "He's gay, I'm not interested, buy something or get out. Please and thank you~"

Nahtahlay stares at him, then at me, then back at him again. I flip my hair over my shoulder and give her a flash of a smile. "The nail polish is on sale?" I offer nervously. Nahtahlay apparently doesn't like nail-polish, because she's already practically flying out of the store.

I would have laughed at Matt's victory-grin under any other circumstances, but right then I only stared at him, not quite sure what to think. I was totally cool with him being cool with my sexuality (actually, I was practically on cloud nine for that fact) but for all of heaven and hell I couldn't imagine why _now_ of all times he was defending me from girl-terror. Especially since we weren't going out…

He seems to notice I'm not laughing, because he turns to me and gives me a puzzled, bloody-idiot grin. "Um… that girl wasn't, like, your relative or something, was she?"

I quirk an eyebrow at him, flipping my hair over my shoulder again (note to self: stop doing that, damn me!) before replying bluntly, "Do I look Asian to you?"

Matt laughs, but it's awkward and unfitting, like he stole someone else's laugh and it didn't quite fit right. "I guess you don't, huh? Doesn't hurt to make sure though."

"I guess," I reply blankly. Then, for reasons I can't really explain to you, I mumble, "I'm half German, half Russian, but my step-mom is from Slovenia and she chose my name. I moved here when I was nine."

Cue dead silence of extreme awkwardness.

Then, sounding just as awkward as I felt, Matt mumbled, "Oh. I'm French-Canadian, but I've lived here since I was seven and my mom's from Detroit."

"Oh."

Cue more silence. I don't know what exactly was so damn awkward about the topic, really, but I felt the tension growing in the room and I didn't like it. Finally, Matt breaks it, but it's just with a stupid excuse: "I'm gonna, um, go to the bathroom now."

I raise my eyebrows, looking up at him with an awkward smile. "You're not going to ask me to go with you, are you?"

Matt laughs, shaking his head and strolling away from the counter. "Nope, just because we work at Justice doesn't make us preteen girls."

I manage to smile at him, but by the time the expression makes it onto my face he's already gone. Immediately, I blanch.

_What. The. Fuck._

_Seriously though,_ I thought irately,_ what the hell am I doing? I'm not supposed to be acting like an emo, lovesick, awkward whiner, I'm supposed to be acting like the awesome Mello that I am! I mean really, we're already established that we're friends, I should be acting… friendly! Or something! Anything but this damn awkwardness! UGH._

L, who had apparently finally crawled out of his office, gives me an inexplicable look. I guess I must have been saying my thoughts aloud without meaning to, because he calls, "Are you in need of a break, Mello?"

I meet his eyes, trying to keep a decent smile on my face since I had only just started. "No, I'm…" He gives me a pointed look. I deflate. "Yeah… yeah, that might be good…"

"Be back soon," L chirps, and then adds under his breath, "And tell Matt I said hello."

Before I can ask him how the hell he knew what was going on he turns on his bare heel and strolls back into his office, leaving me there to gape after him.

I didn't gape for long, however – I still had the conviction from my earlier inner (or at least, what I _thought_ had been inner) rant. After a quick glance behind me to make sure that Misa had taken over the cashier counter I hurried back towards the bathroom, ignoring the oh-it's-a-homo glares I got from the cluster of teen boys standing outside the bathroom. I was _so_ beyond caring about that, puh-lease…

Really I was a bit surprised to find that Matt was really still in the bathroom, but there he was, standing at the mirror with an unhappy look on his face. There were three other people in the proximity but I ignored them, not really giving any thought into my actions until I had already stalked across the room and spun Matt around, slamming him into the wall between the sinks with what I imagine must have been a wild look in my eyes.

As I should have expected, Matt releases a shriek of surprise, eyes going huge behind his goggles. As soon as he sees that it's me, though, he relaxes a bit, though he still looks ready to wig out. "What the hell, Mello?" Matt hisses, face turning a funny shade of pink. "There are innocent men in here trying to pee!"

One of said men at the urinal grunts his agreement, but I don't bother with it, not releasing my grip on Matt's shoulders. "What the hell? What about you? Why do we keep being all awkward?"

"Uh" was Matt's brilliant reply. I let out a hiss of a sigh, narrowing my eyes.

"Look, Matty," I say as I lean forward, quieter now since the urinal-guy ran out from behind me when I didn't oblige and some teen kid is giving me the I'm-gonna-call-the-cops-on-your-ass look. "We're friends, right? We agreed on that?" Matt pauses, then nods hesitantly, still blushing. I release my grip on his shoulders, but don't distance myself from him, repositioning my hands on my hips. "Good. Now look – we are going to stop acting like a bunch of stupid, awkward ninnies or I'm going to FORCE YOU to stop acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. You got that, Matty?"

**Matt's POV**

Did you know that when you're dizzy, it feels like you're drunk?

"Oh, ah _hah_, purple buniiiieeeees."

And if you're below the age of 21, God forbid you should be able to empathize.

"I'm not...taking you...to...my...leader..."

So yeah, I'm underage and I still drink sometimes(I have my ways) but I'm not exactly the best role model in the first place. What with the smoking and cussing and all. Yeah.

"FUCKING SHIT!" For some reason I can't fathom, I ended up in my broom closet, sniffling and hugging a Swiffer duster to my chest like a crybaby. My goggles were fogging up, dust was getting _everywhere_, I was pretty sure I was sitting on a dead cockroach, and I was this close to belting out the lyrics to "Baby Come Back" at the ceiling in hopes that Mello would come in and save me from my despair.

And I'm not even kidding about that last part. Normally I'd berate myself for the theatrics unless it was a dire emergency, but fudge-THIS WAS AN EMERGENCY. No, scratch that, it has gone up being an emergency to being a freaking tidal wave washing over town. _My_ town, to be specific, which for now I'm naming Mattville.

"Goodbye, little Matties," I cooed to myself, imagining mini-me's running around and being drowned. "_Swim_, you little arseholes..."

I felt like my brain had been dropped into a blender and set on 'liquify' without putting the lid back on, thus letting it spew out random emotions like anger and desperation and resentment. I _hated _it, because normally my emotions are in check(thank you very much). I hated even more that right now Mello was probably being a git and consuming chocolate bars like whales eat krill; completely oblivious to the nearby dying redhead. I mean, _hello_...

I made a resolution to myself that I would not take this out on Mello. He only did what was best for us, so I should be thankful.

_Yeah, I'm _ever so grateful_ for you, Mels, _I thought sourly. I think that I'm fully incapable of thinking that without being the least bit sarcastic, because I _didn't _like this new arrangement. I liked being around Mello's perverse-ness, and thanks to my slight(or maybe huge) sense of masochism, I enjoyed being the center of his attention, even though the attention wasn't necessarily positive. Nonetheless, I had to at least try. I mean, jeez, I didn't want to scare him off with this overwhelming urge to glomp him whenever I saw him. Therefore I needed to _not _be a stupid, awkward ninny and try my best to act like Mello and I were _friends. _

But you know, I find it funny that on the following day, after a whole episode me being late, gallantly saving Mello from a girl, and Mello following me into the bathroom yet again, I was acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. Yeah, I guess things just work that way for me...

"-or I'm going to FORCE you to stop acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. You got that, Matty?" Mello's tone was soft so the peeing guys behind us wouldn't hear, but the malice in his voice was crystal clear.

I repressed a "Sir, yes sir!" and a salute, instead settling for stiff, jerky nod.

While I applauded Mello inwardly for thinking a lot like me in this situation('stupid, awkward ninny:' what are the odds?), did he _have _to emphasize that 'FORCE YOU' in his little rant? It made me feel like if someone was to type that phrase, they'd be using caps lock. Oh, and it also made me feel a little funny in my head because being forced by Mello sounds absolutely agreeable with me. Heh, go figure.

Mello shoved me back a little and I winced as my head banged a little on the tiled walls of the bathroom.

_Which just probably caused about a million germs(one of them being STD) to transfer from the wall to my hair. Damn it. Note to self: shower as soon as possible, and use that nice-smelling strawberry shampoo that makes me smell fruity._

"Good," Mello said shortly. He was glaring at me, but would it sound weird if I told you that I wanted to swoon instead of cower...? Jeez, all that strawberry jam(yeah, I said strawberry jam, shut up) must be getting to my head.

Besides, Mello looked like he was getting the same thoughts. About the forcing thing, I mean, not the jam. Or it could have been my imagination, since I'm pretty well-known for having an active one. Either way, the look had been diminished from his face within two seconds, and he glanced at me with a smile that seemed a little force.

"You know what?" His tone suggested that he was either a)willing to forget the very mean words he told me a few minutes ago, or b)bipolar. "We should go see a movie together."

Bewildered, I said, "But you said-" -_that we're going to be friends, Mello, so dammit, stop tempting me!_

"As friends," he cut in. He cocked his head to the side. "That wouldn't be awkward and ninny-like, right?"

I wasn't sure which of both facts made me want to burst out in giggles: that Mello had said 'ninny-like,' or the look he was giving me that suggested he was being serious.

"Um, sure?" I replied tentatively, scratching my head absently and wondering when he was going to blurt out, "Gotcha! I was just kidding!"

But to my growing surprise, Mello nodded. "Good." Then he gave me a bright smile. "So, pick me up at seven?"

Wow. Makes one wonder why he keeps denying the fact that he's more feminine than he thinks.

Yet I found myself nodding also. "Sounds fine," I said airily. Surely this wasn't a date. Mello said it himself: we were going as platonic friends. Yep, platonic indeed. Platonic as the green line on a dead man's heart monitor...or I terrified man's...

And so, four hours after my shift ended at Justice, I stood outside of Mello's apartment for, what? The third time? Fourth? Not that I should be counting. Whatever.

I tugged at the hoodie I was wearing in replacement of my vest, trying to convince myself that I had _not _spent an hour getting ready. Maybe an hour and a half. And the only reason that that extra thirty minutes was clumped in there was because of my blue hair, which, if you might have forgotten, I still had. Hm, let's see, I think I sense a flashback coming on, oh god...

_" 'Guaranteed to be as strong as to wash out dye!' " I read out loud to myself. Giving a thoughtful hum, I looked into the mirror at my blue hair, then at the clock visible through the open bathroom door. I had enough time. _

_Five minutes later, I'd stripped and was dumping out a one hundred and one pounds of the shampoo onto my palm. _

_Ten minutes later, I'd gone through one bottle of the shampoo already. I'd expected this to happen, so I had about two more bottles. I snatched one up from the bathroom counter outside of the shower to resume the de-dying of my hair._

_Ten more minutes later, the blue was _finally _coming out_ _and I was through the second bottle. My fingers ached from massaging my scalp for so long._

_Ten _more _minutes later, most of the blue was out and swirling down the drain. Only a little bit remained. I felt like a prune._

_And finally, after fifteen more minutes of rinsing my hair, the last of the dye was out and I felt like Mrs. Pavlakovich: wrinkly and dried up. Never mind that, I felt _worse. _Like a shriveled up Barney. Oh sweet Jesus._

_Glad to be out of the water, I turned off the shower and stepped out-_

"Hm, impressive," Mello snapped me out of my memory. "You're not late." There was a hint of approval in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm only on time for important stuff, I guess." I shrugged. I was too busy roving my eyes down Mello's outfit to realize how non-friendly that sounded. The effeminate blond was out of his leather and wearing casual light pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt with a jacket. I looked down at myself next, feeling suddenly overdressed with my skinny jeans.

"Welll, aren't you going to take me to your car?" Mello piped up with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Yes your Majesty," I joked, stepping back and gesturing the way towards my car.

It was Mello's turn to roll his eyes; he hit me playfully on the arm, and I felt like were actually were friends. That helped with my anxiety of 'OMG-is-this-a-date-or-what,' along with the car rides.

Because, let me tell you, car rides with Mello are one of the things in life that you wouldn't want to miss. Well, then again, that's only true if you can stand obnoxious singing along to the radio, constant complaints of your driving, and the occasional pointed little sentences like, "You're going the wrong way, retard."

Anyway, the moment I began to back out of the parking lot, Mello turned the radio on and the volume up, causing Neon Tree's 'Animal' to blast loudly.

"_ 'Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends,' _" began the singer, and Mello's voice overlapped it. He was obviously doing it on purpose; it sounded too bad to be his best singing voice.

"Hey Mel?" I said suddenly. My finger tapped against the steering wheel to the rhythm; the song was sticking to me, fast.

Mello surprised me for the second time that day for actually hearing my question over the loud music. I was amusedly observing the driver next to us(who was shouting incoherent profanity and sticking up her middle finger) when his reply came: "Yeah?"

I gave my question a bit of thought before deciding that it couldn't hurt to ask. "Sing for me."

Stealing a sideways glance at my companion, I saw that he didn't look so surprised. Just curious. "Why?" He had to yell over the music.

I shrugged as I maneuvered the car to a U-turn(_missed that damn left turn...)_, answering, "I dunno." Then I quickly added, "I mean, as your friend, I think that I should have heard you actually sing at least once."

He couldn't argue with this, it seemed. "Well, okay." He waited for the chorus to come back around. When it neared, he opened his mouth, and began to sing in the most melodious voice I've ever heard, " _'Oh oh, I want some more, whoa oh, what are you waiting for? Say goodbye to my heart tonight.' _"

That song was a bit _too _fitting for our situation, but I pushed that aside, instead trying to think of an excuse to hear him sing again. Because, holy potato chips, that was the best singing voice I've ever heard. He was no Christina Aguilera; his voice was more tame, for a lack of a better term. It was soft and gentle, as if the person never had once shouted in his whole life. (Insert suspicious look at Mello here)

"That's...good," I got out, figuring that if I'd voiced my thoughts, it would be breaking the whole 'we're-just-friends' thing.

Mello was actually abashed, I noted after stealing a glance at him. "I suck," he said informatively.

_Everyone sucks, _I thought dazedly. _You just have to specify what they suck, exactly... _I decided not to start an argument-over my _friend_'s singing voice, of all things.

After a few more songs that Mello and I screeched along to, a bird we nearly ran over("Matt, watch out for that poor pigeon!"), and an almost-car crash("Don't hit the pigeon! Quickly, veer _left _from it!"), we made it to the movie theater, thankfully, unscathed. Well, except for the slight bruise on my arm from Mello-dearest after the pigeon fiasco, but my point stands.

"So, what movie?" I asked as we stood sometime later in the theater's lobby. A small billboard above the snack counter displayed all kinds of movies they were playing.

Mello seemed preoccupied with something else. "Hey Matt," he hissed, tugging on my sleeve. He pointed; my eyes followed. "It's that woman who threw eggs at me."

I squinted, already thinking, _Oh please don't let it be who I think it is. _

The following outburst from a certain old lady confirmed my suspicions.

"I ordered gravy!" Mrs. Pavlakovich shrieked with the Evil Old Lady Glare of Doom. "Give me my gravy!"

They were attracting attention and fast; two security guards put their hands on their batons just in case... Beside me, Mello gave a snort. "What does she think this place is?" he muttered to me. "KFC?"

And, right on cue, Mrs. P screamed, "As KFC employees, it is your job not to forget to put the gravy in my bag of chicken!" She paused, her squinty little eyes scrutinizing the poor female employee that had been unfortunate enough to be put with her. "Where's my chicken?"

"Please, m'am," the employee said with an embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea - this is the movie theater. There's a KFC right across the road, if that's what you're looking for."

Mello snickered, hiding his grin behind his sleeve. I wondered what the hell he found funny about this; it was Mrs. P, for god's sake, she was _terrifying..._

Said old lady was managing to have some quiet conversation with the employee. Thinking that it would all blow over soon, I turned to one of the other employees behind the counter and bought two tickets to some random movie. I guess I wasn't really focused when I bought them; I mumbled a "Thanks" to the nice woman just as Mrs. P was starting up again.

"What do you mean, no pets!" she was ranting. "Snuckumpuss is not a pet - _she is my daughter!_"

I winced. _Is she really that lonely...? _I watched as Snuckumpuss slinked around her ankles, hissing and scratching and pooped(though only once). "Snuckumpuss," Mrs. P shrilled, "ATTAAAAACK!"

"Let's go," I nearly whimpered, turning around and trying to tug Mello towards our designated theater.

Mello glanced down at his wrist, which was currently being held in practically a death grip by my own hand. _Well, screw me if this is awkward..._

"Sure thing, Matty," he chuckled, nodding slowly. "For what movies did you get tickets for?" He leaned forward as to catch a glimpse of the tickets in my hand.

I laughed a little. "It's a surprise," I told him. Honestly, I had no idea myself. Like I'd said before, I'd bought the tickets on a whim... Well, I guess we'll just have to go in and watch the movie and hope it's not anything too weird. I was seriously afraid to look at the ticket and find out what movie.

And so we entered the theater. We found some good seats near the middle, away from the group of giggling girls that kept pointing at us.

Jeez. Teenagers these days.

When I finally sat down, realization settled over me like a big, heavy blanket. I. Was. Seeing. A. Movie. With. Mello.

What was I thinking? Why had I agreed to this? Oh god, oh god, oh god, Matt, you _idiot!_

Mello saw my apparently troubled face and asked, "You okay?"

"Just fine," I garbled out as a response. _Um, no, not really._

**Mello's POV**

I do believe hell hath frozen over.

Because, awe of all awe, I have received _three miracles today._ I feel like fucking Jesus or something. To sort out what those are, look back for a moment: First, I got a friendship-date, with _Matt _to make matters even fucking better. As in I didn't have to woe him with my charm _or_ my body. That, my friends, is rare in and of itself. People don't tend to like my actual _personality_, if you catch my drift. So this was my first miracle, easily.

Second: MATT. WASN'T. LATE. I know, it's amazing. Here was, all ready to go and thinking that, since I was just on time getting ready, I would have time to maybe check my email on my laptop or maybe paint my nails while waiting for Matt to haul ass over here, but no: he was actually _there already._ Seriously, holy shit – I almost suspected that it was some dumbass door-to-door salesman or one of those stupid girl scouts again who somehow insist on going into _apartment complexes _to ask you if you want fucking cookies. Seriously, don't they know how many drug dealers live in this neighborhood? ….well, in any case, it was Matt.

Third and probably the most miraculous: I managed to _not jump Matt's bones on the way to the movie theater._ Actually, to my upmost surprise, it wasn't even _hard. _I found myself completely relaxing during our car-ride, belting out lyrics to popular radio songs with Matt (whose voice wasn't half bad really), him somehow convincing me to feel comfortable to sing for real (even if I suuuuccckkkkk), and – shocker – I even managed not to even think about trying anything when Sexy Back came on and Matt started wiggling his damn hips to the beat. Damn him. Well, granted, I was doing it to, but…

In any case, the miracles' occurred, I survived, and my belief in God is restored for the next thirty minutes… seconds… whatever.

Anyways after a very enlightening car-ride we strolled into the movie theater, feeling completely content and joyful (well okay, _I did, _but I couldn't be sure about Matt, I'm not inside his head, dammit) even though that creepy old woman (whose name escapes me) and her cat/daughter/only friend Snuckumpuss was there. I'm not sure exactly why Matt is afraid of her – she's a creepy old woman, sure, but if she's trying to order KFC at a movie theater she can't possibly be smart enough to do anything. From the looks of things, the _cat_ has a better IQ than her.

But regardless of the crinklier of us in mention, between Matt's being my friend-date, an excellent car ride, my dashing good looks (mmhmm, I went there), Matt holding my hand (I admit it, my heart fluttered a little, but then, it might have been indigestion from all the cake I ate yesterday…) and going to see a movie (even though I didn't know which _one_ since Matt said it was a surprise – meaning he didn't know what either) I was in a pretty freakin' good mood. This good mood was pretty damn awesome, let me tell you – it had me going as far as letting my hard exterior slip even further than I had thought it to, reaching over and mooching off of Matt's giant root beer and giggling like a giant dweeb when he gave me an incredulous look.

This mood dilapidated significantly as soon as the actual movie came on. As the very beginning tune started to play in the background of the movie, I recgonized it immediately, and that's when I realized the three things I should have realized before:

Ms. P was sitting a few rows down from us, with Snuckumpuss in his very own seat beside her. This was mostly irrelevant to the movie, but whatever.

There were an alarming number of ditzy, squealing teen girls in the theater, many of which who shrieked with joy when the lights dimmed down.

The cluster of people beside us (mostly girls, two guys) were all wearing merchandise T-shirts with semi-attractive teen guys on the front, a lot of the girls appeared to be wearing glitter-laced lotion, and one of the guys grinned at me with what appeared to be fake fangs on his teeth.

These things clicked just as what movie we had actually decided on viewing came onto the screen.

"What the _hell_ Matt, you got us tickets for _Twilight?_ I thought we'd see Love and Other Drugs! I didn't even know they still played this!" I hissed as quietly as I could – apparently not quiet enough, because some girl behind me hissed (yes, _hissed) _in reaction – nudging Matt's shoulder accusingly. Said redhead was staring at the screen with an expression nothing short of horror.

"I… I didn't either…" Matt choked out in disbelief, slowly tearing his appalled eyes off of the screen to meet my gaze. I had to fight back a stroke of laughter at his expression. "I've heard of these things… these random showings in theaters… fans come from all over… apparently it's a big thing…"

I stare at him for a long moment, glance back at the screen to see some relatively pretty girl (Kristen Stewart?) roaming around on the screen with a lost look on her face. I had to wonder if that was acting or just her usual expression, though… I look back at Matt again, putting on my best bitch-and-whine face as I mutter, "Worst. Date. _Ever_."

Matt makes an overdramatic gasping noise, replying a bit too loudly: "Don't judge me on Twilight, I _hate this movie._"

It wasn't really all that loud, I assure you, but apparently it was to the twin girls (or perhaps all fangirls just look the same and they weren't related at all, I dunno) in front of us, both of which whirled around to give us a shut-up-or-die glare. Of course, Matt and I put on our very best obedient, I-am-so-sorry faces until they turned back to the movies, muttering rather loudly about "stupid trolls" and going back to watching the movie, on which screen a middle aged man was grumbling something about hair. Whatever.

As soon as we were sure they weren't looking at us in their peripheral vision anymore we both took to a strained, muffled laughter, the kind that, no matter how many barricades we put to block it from escaping the little squeaks and high notes of it still escaped into the room, earning us some glares from other movie-viewers. Normally, I would hate us for interrupting a movie (I despise people like that, dammit) but to be honest this movie was so ridiculous I couldn't bring myself to care, and from the look s of everyone in the theater (except maybe Ms. P, who was staring at us from the front row while her cat took a shit on the seat) looked as if they had seen this movie at least a million times judging by their attire as well as how the crowd would shout and squee or shout "SEXY" or "TEAM EDWARD" or "JACOB IS BETTER" or "FUCKYES" whenever the weird pale kid with the lipstick came on the screen and/or the way the girl behind me kept muttering the exact lines of the movie mere seconds before they were spoken (creepy, creepy, _creepy,_ _don'tturnaroundMelloohmygod_) so it didn't really matter in the end.

"Dude this is the weirdest shit ever," Matt mumbled to me, shaking his head so that the red tousles on his hair fell in front of his face. Speaking of which, I guess that dye hadn't been permanent… thank god; I'm so adding that to my miracle list! Really!

I grin, elated not only at that long-overdue revelation and the giddy way Matt was looking at me. "Totally – I'm betting every single guy in here is either flamin' gay or really, really desperate to get into a girl's pants."

Matt chuckled, and then paused, looking at me quizzically: "But… _you're_ gay… aren't you?"

Slowly I raised my eyebrows at him (I _do_ have eyebrows you know, their just really, really light blonde and high-arched so they're behind my bangs _and_ practically invisible… but they ARE there) leaning slightly to the side and bumping my elbow with his as I chuckle back, "Matty, do you _really_ need me to confirm my sexuality?" He shrugs, and I roll my eyes, throwing my hair behind my shoulder and returning my eyes to the screen, though really it was just an excuse to look away from Matt to avoid awkwardness (though there was the added bonus of being in time to see some guy in a wheelchair having some sort of showdown with the middle-aged guy, which was partially amusing I had to admit). "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I necessarily like Twilight, but if you like Twilight you're pretty much a giant fag, yeah."

Matt laughed, nodding his agreement and reaching across to pluck the soda – which I hadn't realized I'd been holding – from my hands and take a large suck. I watched him do this for a moment before realizing that my mind had taken a wrong turn into the gutter upon the word _suck_ and I quickly looked away. _Don't think dick, think vampire, think vampire, think Edward Cullen, think Robert Patterson, think those Robert Patterson panties you saw in the store…_ I peeked down at my pants. Yep, crisis averted, hard on avoided, and all is well. _Thank you, crap movies, I owe you one._

But seriously though – I need to learn to keep it in my pants. Seriously.

A few more seconds of shit-movie later we seemed to be a bit at a loss for anything to say, Matt drinking root beer and me watching no-pigmentation-man walk dramatically into the lunchroom, which of _course_ was the cue for the entire room to gasp in ecstasy and me to groan angrily as loud as I could, just to spite the sex-deprived teenagers in the room.

Matt grinned, looking at me from the corner of his eye and mumbling, "Gee, these girls are going to be awfully disappointed when Edward finally gets around to telling everyone he's gay, aren't they?"

I would love to tell you I nearly spit out my soda laughing at his joke, but I can't because that would be a lie. I didn't.

What actually happened was that I _did_ spit out my soda laughing at his joke, _all over_ the Asian girl in front of me. Poor girl, I would almost feel bad for her except her hair was so caked with glitter-hair-gel that she _didn't even feel it. _Seriously, her hair barely even moved, just sort of got splattered with the soda but it didn't actually hit her head at all, only her what-I-thought-was-silky-but-was-probably-actually-rock-hard hair. Though she didn't notice at all, apparently too enraptured in the shittiest movie in the universe to bother with the saliva/soda mixture currently dripping from her dark brown locks.

"_Oh my god, Mello_," Matt whispers through his muffled laughter, holding his arm over his hand in effort to avoid bursting into wild laughter. "_You freak!_"

"I didn't mean to!" I hiss back, blushing and trying to stop from laughing again myself, since we all know too well where _that_ would end up. No more soda for me today.

Just as I'm considering shoving a sock in Matt's mouth since he can't seem to stop laughing like a giant doofus and the rabid fangirls to our left are looking majorly irked (I'm pretty sure I heard one of them whisper, "you grab the blonde, I'll get the redhead, we'll drink out all their blood then see how they like us", I'm not even joking… let's hope they were…) the raging, angry voice of a certain old woman interrupts everything, throwing herself to her feet and screaming, "WHERE IS THAT FOOL WAITOR? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO GET MY MASHED POTATARS HOURS AGO! DAMN TEENAGERS!"

"Potatars?" echoes one of the slower fangirls in the theater.

The rest of the hoard immediately throws a fit, however, because our dear, lovely Ms. P has stood up right in the middle of the Meadow scene and apparently the fangirls don't appreciate that very much. The shrieks are as follows:

"SIT DOWN, LADY!"

"AHHHH! I'M MISSING CULLEN! I'M MISSING _CUULLEEENNNN_!"

"Shut up!"

"This is a movie theater!"

"Potatars?"

"WHO STOLE MY PANTS?"

"TEAM JACOB!"

"YOU WHORE!"

"Oh my god THAT CAT PISSED ON MY TWILIGHT BAG! NOOO, _EDWARDS FACE HAS CAT PISS ON IT!"_

"TEAM JACOB, BITCH! THE KITTEH HAS SPOKEN!"

"_I. Want. My. POTATARS."_

…and that's when I stopped listening, because a large chunk of… something hit Ms. P in the face, some Team Edward girl launched herself at the cat-piss-comment chick, the twins behind me started trying to stand on their seats to see the movie, then someone shouted something about Fairies and_ that's_ when war broke out. I'm not really sure exactly what happened, except that by the end of it somehow Matt and I were in the back row of the theater with that damn Snuckumpuss somehow crammed between our legs in hiding as some sort of obnoxious fangirl-war went on behind us.

"Umm…" Matt croaked out, looking at me slowly with an awkward, disbelieving look on his face. "How did we even end up in this situation?" I had no answer, so I only stared at him until he asked a second one: "Am I dreaming? Because I've had weird ass dreams like this, where you were half bunny and-"

"Matty, you're awesome, but I don't want to hear about your creepy bunny dreams ," I told him flatly, face flushing. Beside me, Snuckumpuss meowed his agreement.

Matt eyed the cat with such suspicion one might think that it was a child molester who especially, _especially_ liked nerdy redheads with nice asses rather than a random, fat feline trying very hard to lick the butter out of its fur. "When did the cat get here?"

"Uh… don't know," I replied, turning myself around in my crouch to peer over the seat just as a soda bottle flew through the air and decked some guy in the face just as some creepy constipated-looking guy made a comment about how good Kristen Stewart smelled. Um, what? Whatever. "We can't just throw the poor thing into the line of fire, though."

"We can't?" Matt replied, sounding almost genuinely disappointed. Snuckumpuss sniffed, and I peeked a look at it. All this time I had thought the feline to be a boy, but Ms. P had called the thing it's daughter… I shuddered, turning away to look back at the vampire v.s. werewolf yell-out fight happening in the theater. It looked less violent and more squealy and whiny, really, but I still wasn't all too excited to return to the theater. To make matters worse (or maybe better) I couldn't find Ms. P in the crowd either.

Pressing myself against the seat farther I carefully plucked the cat up from the ground and, praying that the thing wouldn't shit on me, I stood up and looked down at Matt. "Let's get the fuck out of here, we'll return this him… her… the creature later."

Matt released a whine, something about cat shit all over his white carpet, but I was already gallivanting towards the exit door, expertly dodging thrown objects, fangirls, and security guards whilst somehow not dropping the practically fucking 300 pound cat on my way out. I took an admittedly melodramatic inhale as I reached the outside world – or at least the movie theater hallway.

I swear to god I had sparkles in my lungs before.

Matt is laughing when he finally catches up to me, peering down at me with raised eyebrows. "So I guess we're _not_ going to stay as long as we thought?" he inquired, putting a hand on my head in a friendly kind of way. He sounds carefree, but his eyes glow with disappointment.

Snuckumpuss hisses.

I sigh, rolling my eyes and hoisting Snuckumpuss more securely into my arms. "Of course we are, we're sneaking into the Harry Potter movie. Now haul ass, we're already coming in half way through – you've seen it right?"

Matt grins. "Saw the premiere!" he announces proudly, puffing out his chest.

I grin back. "Really?" I inquire, feigning being impressed. Then I smirk and turn around, strolling down the hallway with a call back of, "You're such a dweeb."

"Hey!" Matt cries, but I'm already half way into the theater.

.x.

The rest of the movie/date/get-together/friendship/outing… thing goes pretty well. At least, there are no random, unbelievable battles that break out anyway; we simply slip into the back of the theater and watch the remainder of the Harry Potter film playing which, _SPOILER ALERT_, has a giant cliffhanger. Because no one saw _that_ coming.

Still, I found myself grinning from ear to ear by the end of the movie, tilting my head to look up at Matt. I had forced him to trade me the root beer for Snuckumpuss, who thankfully had refrained from taking a crap on his lap thus far, though that could change at any time.

"Ready to get out of here now?" Matt inquired, giving me this awkward little grin that made me want to quite frankly leap out of my skin. Through the process of trying to avoid being torn to shreds by sparkly fairy and/or shape shifter fangirls, I had nearly forgotten how fucking _adorable_ the freckled redhead was. Well, okay, I hadn't, but I'd been very, very distracted, and I had tried my best not to think of it so I didn't do something crazy like jump his bones right there in the movie theater or…

I sighed. Man, this friend thing was hard.

"Um, Mel? You okay dude?" Matt inquired, leaning over to shake my shoulder a little too roughly so that my head shook from side to side. I blinked and looked up at him, managing a real, genuine smile at the sight of his worried little frown.

"Yep, I'm fine. Let's get out of here," I replied, getting up and grabbing the mostly-empty giant root beer cup. Matt grinned to me, nodding happily.

Snuckumpuss chose this moment to go ahead and relieve himself.

Four very messy minutes later we were out of napkins to rub the residue off of his shoe, Matt was wailing about being a bad person, there was a brand new blobby brown stain on the movie theater floor, and there was a cat sitting in the back of the car, making him/herself quite comfy on the back seat.

I buckled myself in, still giggling to myself. "That was _crazy_," I laugh, looking up at him with what I can only help is a buddy-buddy expression though I'm sure it reflected quite a bit of affection that I couldn't really be bothered to banish anymore, and just for good measure on the _just friends_ efforts I add a chuckling "Dude" to the end.

Matt grins back, but it's strained by anxiety as he peeks back at Snuckumpuss, face going a bit pale. "I swear to god," he says, looking back to the road as he pulls out of his parking spot with expert skill I can't help but be impressed with, "If that damn cat shits on Barbra's leather seats I'm going to _throw it in the river._"

I laughed, shaking my head before reaching to turn on the radio. Just before I did, though, my finger lingered on the ON button, eyes slowly rising to look at him with what could only really be called bewilderment.

Matt frowned, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "What's that look?" he inquired slowly, turning the corner.

"Barbra?" I echo him, raising an eyebrow at him and withdrawing my hand. "I thought this was your car…?"

Matt laughs at me, as if I was the one acting crazy and not him, shaking his head so that his red tousles fall into his face in an extremely adorable fashion. "No, silly-willis-"

"_Silly willis?_" I echo in a shrill, slightly disturbed tone, but he continues without acknowledging his innteruptance.

"-Of course this is my car. Barbra's her _name_," he explains, rubbing the wheel of the car affectionately as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Staring at him, I'm not sure whether I should be relieved that it's his car and not some woman or scared because he named his car. That's such a… straight guy thing.

"You named your _car?_" I say in disbelief, brushing my hair behind my ear. He nods, beaming proudly as he turns yet another corner; I can tell he's speeding, because it usually takes me double this time to get to my apartment. I wince. "You named your car… _Barbra?_"

Matt laughs at me again, shaking his head and pulling into my parking lot. I'm impressed, secretly, that he actually remembered not to pass it this time. "of course, Barbra," he says simply, killing the engine of the car and turning a smile on me that held so much sparkle it envied Edward Cullen. "Like Barbra Streisand!"

I facepalm before I can stop myself, trying to hold back a bought of relieved and yet frustrated laughter. _Oh my god, how does this boy not acknowledge his sexuality yet…?_

Or maybe he has. Maybe he just doesn't like me. Wouldn't that just be my luck?

"Come on," Matt says encouragingly, patting me on the back almost as if he can read my thoughts. "I'll walk you to the door."

I smile a little, because I can't help myself, and – after a quick goodbye-eye-narrow at Snuckumpuss whom, by the way, I still haven't forgiven for killing my designer boots – I crawl out of the car, smile widening to a grin when Matt rushes around the car to meet me before I can even shut the door… and shuts it for me.

I laugh. "Such a gentlemen," I tease him, punching him in the arm lightly before taking a few steps towards the door, lingering a bit until Matt hurries to walk me to the door, eyes glimmering happily behind the orange tinted lens. I can't help but think that he's very much like a puppy, following me around like this, so eager to be a good boy. Hell, he even hates cats. I grin, bumping shoulders with him as he walks me to the door of my apartment, no real words spoken except for the occasional glance-up-and-laugh-or-roll-your-eyes-at-each-other thing that people do (or at least, we did – I only assume this is the norm because, well, I haven't really had any other friends before this) until we reached the door.

Not sure why, but I felt the absolute need to say something, _anything_, once I reached the door, so I looked up at him and grinned, "Good luck getting the cat shit off your shoe."

He smiles back effortlessly. "Thanks, Mel," he replies, laughing a little awkwardly. He opens his mouth to perhaps say something more then, and I silence myself to allow him to because there's importance in his eyes even behind those dorky goggles, but it slips away after a moment, instead leaving his lips open slightly in something or another unspoken and the both of us caught in an annoying awkward silence.

Finally, I cough, brushing my hair behind my ear and saying with a fake chuckle, "So, um… see you at work tomorrow. Don't be late."

He smiles, but it looks awkward (still adorable, but awkward). "I'll try," he replies, sending me a wink. I can't help but grin back.

Then something weird happens.

Matt visibly hesitates, eyes staring me down behind the goggles as if I might be some extremely complicated piece of art. Stranger still, still staring at me strangely, he leans forward ever so slowly, red hair falling slightly into his face as he does. He comes so close that, for a moment, I almost think he's going to kiss me; automatically, my eyes flutter shut, heart slamming in my chest so hard I feel it might just burst from my chest and get blood all over Matt's approaching face.

I don't know what he was going to do. Maybe he was just being weird, maybe he really was going to kiss me, maybe he saw something on my face – I don't know. I might have found out, if my phone didn't start screaming _What's Up People_ on full blast right at the wrong moment.

My eyes immediately snap open to find that Matt has already recoiled with widened, confused eyes. I flush out, letting out a nervous, "Uh, that's me" as I fumble around in my back pocket for my cell phone. After a minute of frantic searching I find it wedged beneath my wallet (stupid deep-pocket pants…) and flip it open to reveal a text message from none other than the Mood Ruiner himself.

**Near: **

**Mello - Are you coming to Dru's birthday party? I hear he wants you there, though there is always the chance that it is because he wants to douse you with spiked beverages again. Also, Halle says hello and to "keep it in your pants". I hope she is not referring to your phone, since I have just texted you… -Near**

I groan outwardly, slamming my thumbs onto the keyboard in a quick reply (**Mello: No, dammit, I AM NOT GOING TO ANY PARTY WITH DRU, OR YOU FOR THAT MATTER. FUCK OFF**) before quickly flipping it shut, shoving it angrily into my pocket, then doubling back and sending Matt my best sparkling smile.

Matt raises an eyebrow at me, leaning awkwardly from foot to foot. "Who was that?"

"Meh. No one important," I reply, waving the topic away. Inwardly I'm sweating, because _what the fucking hell did that albino brat interrupt anyway_ and I'm dying from lack of anything to say. It felt way too much like one of those dumb, awkward first dates I used to have in middle school or something. When Matt says nothing in return, I reply, "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Matt flashes me his toothpaste-commercial grin and nods. "Cool. I'll see you then. I had a good time."

A genuine smile pushes away my awkward sparkly one, cheeks tainting with blush. "Yeah, me too," I reply softly, fiddling with my keys before finally finding mine and unlocking my door, eyes never really leaving Matt's face. Really, I don't want him to leave. I never want him to leave.

But it's inevitable and, with one last dorky little half-wave he does, strolling down the hallway with his usual arrogant, breezy dexterity.

Okay, so, I'm trying to play it cool here, but to be honest, as soon as Matt starts down those stairs I race into my room, slam the door behind me and bolt for the window in a haste, trying my very best to assume a casual, laid back pose as I lean against the window sill. I'm sure I looked terrible, but it doesn't really matter anyway since once I spot Matt strolling towards his car I melt into a floppy, helpless sitting position, sending him yet another farewell wave.

He grins, and waves back one final time before climbing into his car. As soon as he vanishes behind Barbra's door, however, a little part of me is shrieking for him to come back. I clench my teeth and turn away from the window, trying my best to cling to my manly dignity: _he'll be back tomorrow. You'll see him tomorrow. Don't be an impatient bastard, Mello – you'll see him, your FRIEND tomorrow, so stop acting like a ninny!_

Then, a shriek comes from the parking lot below:

"FUCKING HELL, SNUCKUMPUSS! HOW DARE YOU SHIT ON BARBRA STREISAND'S FLOORBOARDS!"

I grin, pressing my hand to my lips to keep from releasing a giggle to match my schoolgirl-esque. _He's such a nerd._

_**A/N: Well, kids, um, this A/N is mostly to inform you that, if you read this chapter RIGHT after it was submitted.. you saw my note to Atreyl i stuck at the end instead of this, because it wasn't deleted... ahaha... sorry.**  
_


	15. Invasion of the Females and Near

**Matt's POV**

Scrubbing cat piss out of carpet isn't really as easy as it sounds. Nor is it as pleasant-smelling as it sounds(does that make sense?). Nor is it funny(because my poor baby just got defiled by urine and you choose to _laugh _at me?). My point is, I don't think anyone would even find it as a remotely good idea to spend your night.

I guess I should be thankful that it's not cold out, though. I had to roll down the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air(because suffocating in cat pee is... You know what? Never mind.) as I cleaned up the carpet as best as I could with a burning ankle and a slightly swollen forehead.

"Old women," I huffed under my breath as I scrubbed harder. "You can rot in hell for all I care- Argh, damn it!" -Matt accidentally loses his balance and lurches forward, thus placing his hand on a damp spot of cat pee in the process.

-Matt decides to dump the rest of the soap on the stain.

-Matt angrily shoves a black carpet on top of it.

"There," I panted. "Done." With that, I chucked the rag I'd been using out the window. I didn't hesitate in pouring practically the whole bottle of hand sanitizer(which had conveniently been found in the dashboard by yours truly) on my palm and rubbing my hands together until they were bright red.

This isn't right.

I'm supposed to be in a post-date haze, swooning over the fact that Mello and I had been _this close _to kissing(SCREW YOU NEAR), and _not _being slightly sore in the forehead because an egg carton full of eggs had been thrown at me by- Guess who? Cloud, right after we went out for some fantastic ice cream. As much as I'd like that to happen(minus the egg part), no, you dumbass, Cloud did _not _throw a carton of eggs at me. It was Mrs. P. Yep. Even after I ever-so-nicely returned her cat, which, did I mention, relieved herself in my car.

I opened the car door and half-crawled out onto the pavement. After sliding my goggles back down to cover my eyes, I snatched the rag from the ground and went to go back inside. I rubbed my forehead with my free hand; who knew egg cartons hurt so much?

I winced as the memory came back.

_"Hey, Mrs. P?" With some effort, I managed to knock on the door. A simple task such as that gets quite difficult when you're trying to hold up a possibly two hundred pound cat._

_"Who's there?" she croaked. _

_I looked into the peephole and saw her eye peering out back at me. "Matt," I replied. I hoisted up Snuckumpuss so she'd be able to see her. "I have your...cat." Snuckumpuss hissed and scratched at my arm. "Stupid cat!" I hissed back. "I'm trying to return you to your owner, for god's sake!" _

_Snuckumpuss managed to do this weird head-turning thingy, eyes narrowed to slits at me. I looked at her in wonder, finding that she resembled Mrs. P slightly. Weird._

_"Oh, Matthew," Mrs. P said, tone switching as she opened the door. She was smiling, revealing a mouth that lacked several teeth. "You've brought Snuckumpuss." She opened her arms wide to receive her cat, and that's when I noticed the carton of eggs in the crook of her elbows. _

_"Are you making scrambled eggs?" I asked, trying to make conversation as I hauled the cat into her arms. _

_"Scrambled eggs?" Mrs. P echoed. Her eyes got this distant look, and for a second I was worried that she was falling into a coma or something. But then, in a lightning quick movement, she _slapped me.

_"Ow," I mumbled with a pout, rubbing my cheek tenderly. My childish was being brought out, so don't blame me if I just stood there like a five-year-old, pouting and rubbing my face. Besides, that woman could slap, no matter how many decades old she is._

_"Devil!" Mrs. P screeched, moving forward to hit me again. Snuckumpuss meowed and jumped down to the floor, scurrying away as fast as she could. "Devil! Away! Away!" She took out a cross and waved it in front of my face._

_"Okay, I'll leave! Jesus!" I cried, turning tail and fleeing. _

I sighed, flopping back onto my couch. This just-friends thing was killing me, although it's only been, what? Two days? I'm normally docile, but with Mello...I don't know. And I only say that because I don't want to finish that sentence with something cliche...

I sighed forlornly once more. If Near hadn't interrupted us with that stupid text, I'd have kissed Mello, whether he wanted to or not. And no, it would _not _be rape because he likes me and therefore he'd like it.

Right?

But wait-

Didn't he-

_Yes, _a voice said in my head. _He did lean forward too. He was going to let it happen!_

So this means...

_Yes, it means he might still like you, too, you dolt, so do something before that changes!_

Normally, I'd put in something sarcastic here, but like the voice inside my head said, I needed to make a move, and fast.

x

I was pumped. Not only did I have an _amazing _plan, but I was also sure that it would work perfectly. In about five minutes, Mello was going to walk through the doors of Justice, right on time. I was going to be waiting for him near the cashiers, and when he takes his place next to me, I'll grab him and rape his mouth.

Ahem.

I meant, 'kiss him.'

(DON'T JUDGE ME)

I anxiously looked at the pink clock that hung on the wall above me. Two more minutes. Almost there, just a little while... Oh great, of all times, my bladder has to act up _now_?

"Hey Misa," I said, motioning for her to come over.

Misa finished folding the shirt she was holding before bounding over to me. "What is it, Matty?" she asked brightly.

I glanced at the clock again. "If I'm not here when Mello arrives, can you tell him that I need to talk to him?" I said, leg twitching slightly in an urge to find the bathroom. "It's really important. Tell him that, too."

Misa gave me a salute, smiling brightly. "Will do!" she said with a sharp nod.

"Thanks," I got out, and then I was running to the bathroom.

Seven minutes later, I strolled into Justice and came upon the end of the world. Just kidding. It was Mello and Near talking to each other. But Mello was giggling, presumably at something that Near said, and his cheeks were even that cute shade of pink. As you can see, it might as well be the end of the world.

Before I could decide to step in and demand what was going on, Mello handed Near his plastic bag and the albino went trotting away. Finding this as my chance to confront Mello, I stormed over to the counter.

"Oh, Matt," Mello said, acknowledging my presence.

"What were you and Near talking about?" I asked, praying that I sounded casual.

Mello raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Maybe it's none of your business," he said. "Jeez, Matt, jealous much?" After that last part, his face turned red in embarrassment; maybe he hadn't said it on purpose?

Whether or not he did, I was blushing too. "I'm not! I just wanted to know what you were talking about," I said heatedly. "I mean, you-" I cut myself off. I had no idea what Mello's relationship with Near was, so who was I to assume that they _weren't _dating? "You know, if you're seeing Near..." I mumbled, my emotions compelling me to say the words.

"What did you say?" Mello said, suddenly sounding cross.

"N-nothing," I said quickly. _Oh crapcrapcrapcrap-_

"This really isn't helping the whole just-friends situation," Mello said, crossing his arms and looking at me. "Spit it out."

What do you say in this situation? Please, if this happens to be some story or fanfiction or some shit like that, HELP ME. "I didn't say anything!" I said defensively. "And you yelling at me isn't helping either, you know."

"I'm not yelling," Mello said flatly.

Insert face-palm here.

"Just drop it?" I said hopefully._ Pleasepleaseplease-_

Mello rolled his eyes, turning to a girl who was checking out some shirts. I watched as he rung up the items and hand the girl her shopping bag. "Are you going to keep staring or are you going to help that boy over there?" he asked me some time later.

"Huh?" I blinked and turned. Oh, he was right. A little boy, about nine years old, smiled cheekily up at me.

"I'm buying these for my sister's birthday!" he chirped, putting two hats on the counter. "Mommy let me buy her a present. I'm a big boy." He even produced some dollar bills and handed them to me. Aw. How cute.

"Good for you, kid," I said with a smile, ringing up his items and putting them in Justice's official shopping bag. I handed it to him, saying, "There you go."

"Thank you, mister!" the boy said, before leaving.

"How cute," Mello said pointedly. "But we're still not done. What did you say?" Jeez, he was persistent.

"I told you, nothing!" I exclaimed. "Why do you want to know, anyway?" _And why are you in such a bad mood today? Don't you know that I managed to make it here five freaking minutes early just to put my plan into action?_

"Fine, whatever," Mello growled, successfully sending shivers up my spine. "Sorry if I was trying to be _friendly _and caring for whatever you mis-interpreted what Near and I were talking about." He slammed the cash register's drawer close and promptly left Justice.

"Fuck," I muttered, slamming my fist down on the counter. "And to think that ten minutes ago I was hoping to kiss him... Now I just want to- Ugh." I went over to Misa. "Can you cover for me?" I said tiredly. "I...forgot my vest at home." Yeah, I'm weary enough to think of that lame excuse. Can you blame me? Never mind. Please don't.

"Of course!" Misa said brightly. "Anything to help out a friend!"

"Thanks, Misa."

In the end, I found myself walking down the sidewalk towards that convenience store where I bought the Final Fantasy game. Why? I don't know. My car was- Shit, I don't think I even remember where I left it... And I'm pretty sure my goggles are on upside-down...

I don't care.

This is what you do to me, Mello. Do you see this? Screw you.

I don't need this. I _really _don't need this.

**Mello's POV**

For the record, I was _not_ flirting with Near, have _never_ flirted with Near and _will never_ flirt with Near. That boy is creepy and so, so, _so_ not my type. So before you immediately jump to side with mister overreact over there (read: Matt) hear me out.

_This_ is really what went down:

I had come right on time for once, since – to be honest – I was trying not to run into Matt. It wasn't that I was _avoiding_ him, it was just that I wasn't sure what I wanted to say to him just yet. The previous night had been… I didn't really have the word for it, some weird, mutated cross-breed of amazing, embarrassing, hilarious, annoying, beautiful, and upsetting. Sounds crazy, but that's just how it was. Though honestly, I wasn't at all surprised at all when Matt wasn't in the store when I got there – he was _always_ late after all, and yesterday's miracle had expired.

So I just sat there at the counter, helping a relatively steady stream of teen girls and their obnoxious/stressed-out parents whilst waiting for a familiar face to pop in through the doorway. However (much to my disappointment) the familiar face wasn't Matt but Near.

I shouldn't have been surprised, really, since he seems to be the guy who strolls in and _fucks everything up all the time_ but still I found myself blinking stupidly at Near as he strolled over to the counter.

Still, when he looked up at me, presumably to speak, I recovered and cut him off with a domineering smirk: "Hey, sheep, what's up in your fluffy little world? Here for something? I heard the puffy pink purses are on sale."

Near blinked at me blankly, clearly not understanding the meaning of "sarcastic humor" considering his reply was only, "No, actually, my world is quite hard. My roommate refuses to install carpet."

My smirk faltered, raising an eyebrow. (Note: I _do have_ eyebrows you know, they're just very pale and under my bangs, jeez.) When I didn't seem to be able to find a response for that, Near continued to speak, aimlessly fiddling with one of the objects at the cheap little counter-shelf. "Well, I am actually here to talk to you. Well, to talk to you on behalf of Halle Linder, who at this moment is halfway across the state with Stephen – only God knows what they're doing."

The totally-there eyebrows arched higher and I leant forward on the counter, ignoring the fact that I'm sure I looked like one of those stupid high-school girls (my feet got tired sometimes too, okay?) and replying, "And what exactly did she have you go over here to tell me that she couldn't tell me over the phone?"

Near blinked, looking slightly flustered for just a moment before regaining his emotionless mask. "I am uncertain as to the actual _meaning_ behind this, but she says…" He looks down at his hand, and I have to struggle not to laugh at the fact that she's used his arm as paper. "She says, and I quote, 'Hoes before bros, you owe me a spa night' and also" – his face flushes at this – "to use a condom."

Okay, I can't help it. I started laughing. It wasn't so much Halle's words so much as it was the fact that _Near_ was saying it. Seriously, can you even imagine Near saying _condom?_ There's just something about that that got to me, and I started laughing like a crazy person. Or, rather, giggling like a little pansy schoolgirl, but leave me alone I was in a good mood.

_Was_ being the keyword, since as soon as Near shuffled away with a mutter of "she better have that Glee merchandise she promised me for this" Matt swooped in, a very... _possessive_ look on his face.

That was the word for it, too. Possessive. I knew the look because I'd seen it before, plastered on a too-familiar face, and now that it was on Matt's it startled me, a scrambled, "Oh, Matt!" escaping my lips.

He didn't seem to notice how frazzled I was at all, since he just leaned on the counter with this false-casual expression on his face, only barely masking the suspicious, possessive look that freaked me out so much. "What were you and Near talking about…?" he ventures, trying to seem uncaring.

I felt the words coming to my lips before I could stop them. "Maybe it's none of your business," I ended up saying blatantly, my eyes narrowing defensively before I can stop them. I really hadn't meant it the way it came out, but still they came spewing out (word vomit, that's what it was – thank you, Mean Girls [shut up, I'm gay]). The expression on Matt's face twisted slightly from casual/possessive to disappointed/unhappy. The words kept coming in response: "Jeez, Matt, jealous much?"

Wait, shit. No. We were suppose to just be friends, weren't we? _Shit shit shit..._ cue becoming a human tomato (read: blushing). Luckily enough Matt was blushing too, his words coming out flustered and confused, as if he were having an inner conflict with himself: "I'm not! I just wanted to know what you were talking about. I mean, you-" Pause. Then, cue stupid-le-blurt-mumble: "You know, if you're seeing Near…"

_SEEING NEAR?_ Did he _seriously_ suggest that? After everything I'd done, flirting with him, calling him Nice-Ass at every opportunity, going on an almost-date (friend date, whatever, kiss my [extremely attractive] ass), kissing him once, almost kissing him _twice_.. he thought I was _seeing someone?_

Cue more word vomit: "What did you say?" I growled crossly.

Matt suddenly looked even more flustered than before, face turning an adorable shade of pink. At least, I would have found it adorable if he wasn't acting like such a loser. "N-nothing!"

The word vomit was getting worse, but I couldn't help it – the possessiveness had been there and, as loser-ish as it was, I could feel my defensiveness building up, crossing my arms over my chest. "This _really_ isn't helping the 'just friends' situation," I told him, narrowing my eyes. "Spit it out."

"Yelling at me isn't helping either, you know," he countered. He was right, or _would be if I had been fucking yelling. _I told him as much, except in less profane terms. He face-palmed at me (is it acceptable [read: in bitchy-gay-man terms] to slap someone for that?), but then just said, "Just drop it?

I rolled my eyes and turned to another customer, but really, I wanted to drop it. I really, really did.

Why am I such a bitch?

After Matt tore his eyes away from me and helped a little boy (who was absolutely _adorable_ as was Matt [if he wasn't acting like an ass that is] and in any other situation I would be wishing I had a camera) I ended up shooting him the question again.

"How cute," I said pointedly, flipping my hair over my shoulder and giving him a look. "But… we're still not done. What did you say?" _Er, mean. I did hear him… whatever, fuck that._

He looked annoyed, voice going from a flustered mutter to an irritated exclamation. It would be over dramatic to say that his words pierced my heart with their sharp shards of hurtfulness (I'm not poetic, I know) but it certainly did hurt when he shouted: "I told you, nothing! Why do you want to know, anyway?"

At the moment, I didn't really think. Didn't think about how adorable and sweet Matt was, didn't think about how just minutes earlier I had wanted to greet him with a hug and proclaim him my b-f-f-l, and just hours earlier I had been ready to kiss him (screw you, Near), nor how he was absolutely nothing like my first and last steady boyfriend. I just went on defensive mode, growled something I don't even remember that really wasn't the reason I was angry anyway, and left Justice without a word.

It hadn't been my shift anyway. I'd taken Linda's shift to see him.

X

Most assholes would go straight to the nearest alcoholic-beverage serving vicinity when they were under the kind of stress I was in. Most smarties would go work out, run out all the stressful toxins out of their body. Most tree-huggers would go do some yoga shit. Most dorks would go home and "PWN sum n00bs COD" or some shit like that.

Being the psycho gay man that I am, I end up at Starbucks, downing my third chocolate mocha and spilling my heart out to a barista I don't even know.

"I don't even… I'm such an asshole, you know? I mean, Jesus, he's a total sweetheart and I feel like I led him on… I shouldn't have just immediately assumed he wasn't going to be a possessive bastard just because he asked me why I was talking to Nate, right?" I was spewing, throwing back another swig of chocolaty/coffee goodness. I wasn't really prone to talking to strangers (I find people annoying) especially not about my personal life, but I didn't really have anyone else to talk to and the barista (a petite, perky looking Japanese teen with long dark brown hair and soft eyes) had been there to listen.

Said girl, whose name she'd said was Sayu, nodded understandingly at me, putting on a look of sympathy. I knew she didn't really care as much about my problems as the fact that I was a very attractive gay man (I'd played the game in high school, I know most chicks love us) but she was listening for real, and understood what I was talking about well enough, replying, "Sure, sure, but he knows you have commitment issues, right? You said you told him."

"Yeah."

"Then he should _understand_ that – he's not your boyfriend, and he can't expect you to act loyal to him if you're not even dating, and anyway you he didn't even ask for explanation as to why you were talking to the Nate guy, right?" I nod again, looking at Sayu as she animatedly tosses her hands around with her words – she sounds like a teen advice column come to life.  
"So there you have it! You're BOTH assholes!" Or maybe not.

As not-helpful as that comment was, I find myself laughing into my chocolate-mocha, shaking my head at her. I wasn't one to talk to people, like I said, but this girl was relatively entertaining even though I had terrified her when I first stormed in (I guess shrieking "I NEED CHOCOLATE AND COFFEE, GOD DAMMIT, GET IT BEFORE I SHOOT YOUR FACE OFF" at her wasn't the best first impression…) and made good company whilst ranting, even if she was just using me as her own personal gay-man.

"You know what?" Sayu is saying, brushing her hair behind her ear, "I bet he really was jealous. He's a guy, and they tend to get kind of stupidly jealous for no reason, uh-" She giggles nervously. "No offense."

"Pff, none taken," I tell her, shaking my head and downing chocolate. Wow, I was being friendly, wasn't I? Well, she did get me coffee/chocolate (double points!) and I tended to be overly friendly at random moments to get over the fact that I was the biggest asshole on the planet.

"But seriously, though – he did say he loved you, right?" Sayu inquires, poking my elbow. I blinked at her, startled, but nod. Before I can even try to say _but I think he was kidding_ she's talking again, "Well then of course he'd be jealous! That's what it is." She grins, seeming very happy with herself. "Therefore, you should talk to him…" she blinks. "Oh, but only if you _want_ to spend time with him anymore. If you _don't_ and/or he's actually just a dickhead you should probably kick him in the balls and run the next time he approaches."

I almost spit out my chocolate-mocha laughing right then, earning a stare from the elderly couple at the next table over and a wide grin from Sayu. Once I have regained my composure (and the very little of my dignity I still have in my psychological possession) I give her a pointed smile, saying, "Geez, Sayu, you sure do cheer me up. I should kidnap you and take you home, seriously."

Sayu laughed, though by the look on her face my comment made her slightly nervous. Figured, most people didn't make kidnapping jokes...

Realizing suddenly what time it was – I had classes in about two hours, and I needed to change and shower and maybe see if I could catch L and apologize for storming out on the (Linda's) shift – I leapt to my feet, thanked a frazzled, still very smiley Sayu for the coffee (the same Sayu, by the way, that I actually had no intention of ever, ever talking to again because really _no one_ I know is allowed to see Mello the great act like a drama-queen… uh, except Halle), and hurried out of the shop towards Justice. When I made it inside, however, I was met by only Misa, who immediately met me at the door.

"Hey, Melly-chan, you're back! Don't worry, Misa-Misa took care of all three shifts today," the blonde chirped. I could have shot her in the center of the head right then and there, just to make her stop being so damn cheerfully, but I guess she saved my ass so I can't complain. Instead, I return the smile, or at least the look since I'm frowning at her.

"Three shifts? L and Matt aren't here?" I asked her. She shook her head, her pigtails bobbing excitedly with her head.

"Na-da, L said he had work to do and left a few minutes ago – I don't think he noticed you were gone – and Matt left to get his vest…" she paused, looking down at her little pink watch on her wrist, then looked up with that sparkly grin again. "Four hours ago!"

_Riiiggghhhhttt…_ because it takes 4 hours to go get a vest and L never noticed when his employees were missing. Totally. (That was sarcasm [obviously], seriously what planet does that girl life on?)

Still, I don't bother to tell her that, simply nodding my thanks and heading out the door. I would talk to Matt in the morning, same for L, but for now I would just go to school and study up.

And by "study up" I apparently meant day-dream about Matt and how, when I saw him, I would promptly leap into his arms and spew out a million cheesy apologizes in the most out-of-character way possible, because honestly I was just in that kind of mood. Honestly.

Of course, it would just be my luck that a _chick_ would get in the way before I got the chance to.

**Matt's POV**

Walking's a nice way to blow off some steam. No, really. I mean it. Try it sometimes. And, uh, if you have tried it, the next time around, try having a meltdown/breakdown/seizure/cardiac arrest. Because it's _so _much fun when people are looking at you all weird, and you know they're thinking, 'Oh jeez, another bad nut in the mix...' Seriously, I don't even _get _that expression! Who the hell thought comparing people to nuts was a good idea? Well, y'know, at least I didn't shriek, "I DON'T LIKE MEN!" in the middle of the street like a _certain _anime character had...YEAH, I'M TALKING TO YOU, MISAKI TAKAHASHI. But on second thought, that sort of ended well; Usami accidentally heard him and he was all embarrassed and that. Then again, I don't think it was really necessary. Usami seemed to like him already from the start-I mean, he did _that _to him for god's sake! What kind of-

Oh. Ahem. Sorry. Got a little off-topic there. [insert Matt's weird and freakishly girly giggle]

Then again, why am I thinking so much to myself these days? It's almost like I expect someone to read my thoughts or something... Which is weird. Is anyone even listening? If you are, then you've probably seen everything...

...my deepest, darkest secrets...

...my most innermost thoughts...

...my precious secrets...

...Oh well. Just make sure that you don't tell Mello that I practically raped him with my eyes on the first time I saw him. Okay? Good.

Uh oh. More talking to myself. Not good. Walk faster, legs!

And my legs responded(a weird thing to say, if you think about it). I turned the corner where my favorite convenience store was at. Did I mention it sold video games? Yeah.

The door made that little ding as I pushed through it. The scent of brownies wafted into and past me. After inhaling deeply several times, I walked in, eyeing the Girl Scouts that were setting up for a bake sale or something. Must explain the smell...

_This brings back good memories, _I mused to myself, remembering the last time I'd been here. If I remember correctly, this was where I'd gone before going off to my apartment, only to discover that Mello had been following me the whole time. And yes, I do consider that as a good memory.

Wait. I had not come here to think more about Mello, I came here to clear my mind of him. So yes, where was I? Right, picking a game, la-di-da.

I grabbed a random DS game from the shelves, looking at the cover wearily. My brain took a second to register the bright pink-and-orange-and-yellow cover with the scary 'mama' and realize that I'd picked up Cooking Mama. Speaking of which, it used to be one of my favorites when I was a kid...

"You don't want that," someone chuckled. For a second, I thought, _Oh god, it's Mello again, _and when I turned around, I did almost believe it, for the person standing there was the exact same image of him. Um, minus the boobs, of course. "You want this." She replaced the Cooking Mama game with God of War.

I peered at her curiously. What does _she _know about games? "Call of Duty or Halo?" I asked out of nowhere, leaning forward and looking at her suspiciously.

"Call of Duty!" she immediately responded, blue eyes shining bright in excitement.

"Oh my god, thank you!" I sobbed in joy, jumping forward and hugging her really tight. Finally! A girl who understood games!

"Um, you're welcome," she said, laughing nervously. I can see the imaginary sweatdrop on her forehead... "Hey, aren't you that gay guy from, like, three weeks ago?" she inquired, giving me a confused smile.

"Gay guy?" I racked my brain, trying to remember. And when I did, I laughed a little too loudly. "Oh, that!" I said. "Yeah, but I'm not really gay. I swear. I was just trying to find an excuse, and my mouth sorted of acted on its own." Insert another awkward laugh. "Yeah."

The girl gave me a skeptical look, but she grinned and shook her head. "Man, you're weird," she commented. "Are those goggles?"

I touched the said eyewear. "Mhm," I said with a nod.

"Are you, like, trying to cosplay Hwoarang?" she said excitedly. "You're not wearing any leather as far as I can see, but you'd make a pretty good cosplayer of him."

Hm. Interesting. She played Tekken...? "No," I answered. "But I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually try one day." Damn, she looked so much like Mello... "Are you trying to cosplay Mello?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Her expression turned into one of confusion. "Mello?" she asked. "Is he a video game character?"

"Uh..." Quick, Matt, think of something that wouldn't make you sound like a weirdo! "Uh... He's an anime character," I said slowly. _Anime character? _I mentally whacked myself upside the head.

The girl nodded. "I think I've heard of him," she said solemnly.

"You have?" I squeaked.

She shrugged. "I dunno. I think he's from that Boku no Pico* anime," she said, which made me even more scared and excited at the same time; this girl watched anime, too!

I pondered this. "That one with the effeminate blond?" I said, blushing madly. Yeah, I'd seen that anime, and let's just say that after that, my eyes weren't so innocent anymore...

"Oh, so you _are _gay?" She frowned. What...?

"I'm not!" I denied. "I only clicked on it accidentally and before I knew it, stuff happened and...yeah..." I said lamely, scratching the back of my head. "But he looks more like Madonna. I mean, you can give him some lipstick, fake boobs, and call him Madonna and everyone would believe you."

"Or, you know, just put a leather outfit on Madonna and call her Mello," she said, laughing.

When I only shot her a confused look, she elaborated, "Because, y'know, he's Mello, and she's- Never mind."

Aaawkwaaard.

"What's your name?" I asked, finding that she wasn't wearing a nametag.

"My names Tiffany!" she said brightly. "What's yours?"

"Matt," I said, too pleased to wince in distaste at how girly her name sounded. "I'm Matt."

"Hey Matt," Tiffany said, eyes twinkling, "sometime later, you should come over for a sleepover! I have Call of Duty at home and I can so blow your ass up with my AK-47 Grenade Launcher!"

She's such a dork. Even so, I think I may have found my new best friend.

So take that, Mello. I'm just fine without you!

* * *

***Boku no Pico: Uh...shounen ai anime. o.o Watch at your own risk, for you may not appreciate your eyes being raped as mine had been...**

**A/N: HOORAY. ANOTHER CHAPTER. This should have been published sooner, but I was on a cruise ship vacationing and... yeah. ~Holli  
**


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